(514-05-15) Off to the Races
Summary: A spontaneous horse race
Date: 514-05-15
Related: Carlion Logs
amalthea arian bradwyn catryn cyndeyrn fayne iolo kamron lysanor martyn seren seth 

Carlion Countryside
Rolling hills, and wooded thickets make up much the countryside of Carlion, with the river Usk cutting a green path from the north, past the city, and emptying into the ocean to the south. Two notable things are visible from the countryside immediately surrounding Carlion, the first is the stone castle that sits atop a hill at Carlion, the second the ships docked near the mouth of the Usk river, part of the kingdoms navy.

Word has circulated about that Iolo, the Minstrel has organized a bit of a race, for various knights, ladies, and common folk alike to participate in, and show off their skills at riding, provided they have a horse to enter with, of course! He stands atop a shoddily built raised platform, the start point atop a hill that offers a nice view of the track below, which circles down about a pathway, cuts along the backside of a field, before circling around up to the start point once again.

"Welcome, welcome all!" Iolo calls out, "Come, those who would ride, come forward and announce yourself, and take your place upon the start line!"

As the call comes a rouncy is led forward by a man that certainly stands out, standing at an abnormal height of six feet with an athletic build approaches the start and announces, "Sir Bradwyn de Idmiston." as he leads the horse to the start and then mounts, likely looking a bit off due to his abnormal size as his scarred face focuses on the track ahead. (Siz: 16, App: 8)

A figure somewhere at five eight sits up straight and tall on a dappled grey rouncy, his hair as long as the horses tail! He presents himself with chest barrelled, shoulders and spine straight, regal without having to try. The attire he wears is fashion forward, though suits for the nature of riding. Leather trimmed and cut with wool. He nudges the dappled grey with a white mane and tail ahead at the call for participants. His arm lifts only enough to announce his willingness to race, not without giving a delightful flick of his head that sends all that hair fluttering. Oh it's going to be a bitch to comb out later - but for now it might catch the eye. His lips curl into a precise measure of a smile, "Sir Seth de Shrewton," and then cue the dashing look over his shoulder and the smoldering romancy grin he shoots the audience as he waves a hand once to salute them. (APP 17)

After having left the great hall in the company of her many cousins and their friends and acquaintances, Lysanor and the others are drawn to the news that Iolo, the Minstrel was putting together a horse race at the tracks! Unlike being awestruck in the presence of the Pendragon, this was a different sort of excitement and as both her brother and cousin take their horses to compete, she continues to surround herself with those closest to her — namely, standing beside Kamron, Arian and of course Seren! Peering out across the track, there are so many familiar faces to be seen, from friends and family foes to recent acquaintances. "Oh, how I envy Amalthea. She can ride like the wind. I suppose that is another skill where I am lacking." Her tone slightly abashed when she says this.

"No 'ladies first' then?" Amalthea teases brightly as she leads her offwhite beast dappled with spots of dark. She joins the ranks of those racing with little fanfare, plain and simple in her demeanor and garb, and only, "Lady Amalthea de Dinton, if you please." It's only at the line that she mounts her horse, giving the creature a chance to be as fresh as possible. Once upon the seat of her rouncy, she turns to blow kisses to her family, giving them a cheery wave.

One of the Burcombe siblings is there, one of the more infamous.. notorious? Seated on a Rouncy, she holds her reins, looking towards Iolo. As each introduce themselves, she offers a smirk, "Sir Catryn de Burcombe." Cue jeers. Neither dashing of looks or overly big or little, she is average. Simply average. Just don't tell her that. Leading her horse to the start, she nods at the others, but that's as far as her greeting goes.

Leading his own horse onto the start, Martyn looks around at the crwods, before raising one hand into the air. "Sir Martyn de Baverstock." Looking over to those he knows among the other competitors, he smiles. "Good luck," he offers.

Cyndeyrn is in good spirits in the latter part of this wonderful day, and so a race seems just the sort of thing to… celebrate? Or simply to get out and do, perhaps. It is not often that he is so generally jovial, and even astride his unremarkable chocolate-brown rouncy, he is not overflowing with bright smiles, but the large Dinton knight still somehow looks at least a shade or two less serious than the average. A keen eye might readily attribute his state to the handkerchief worn, at this time, tied about one arm, the delicate bit of cloth flapping in the breeze as he rides out to join the others. "Cyndeyrn ap Cynfarch of Dinton, good minstrel."

Kamron mingles with the rest of the nobility and knighthood who are watching, still in his Court finery. Of habit, he has joined the others from Salisbury, and particularly his family and friends. He nods to Lysanor, "It must be quite freeing to ride so well and so quickly." Chuckling softly, he adds, "And I'm near certain that she rides better than I do as well." In addition to his usual attire, he still has an off-white cord wrapped around itself and tucked carefully behind his belt, showing up bright against his rich blue tunic. Spotting the blonde-haired knight showing off for the crowd, he laughs and points him out, "And there is cousin Seth as well. it seems as if this race will be Dinton-heavy."

Kamron mingles with the rest of the nobility and knighthood who are watching, still in his Court finery. Of habit, he has joined the others from Salisbury, and particularly his family and friends. He nods to Lysanor, "It must be quite freeing to ride so well and so quickly." Chuckling softly, he adds, "And I'm near certain that she rides better than I do as well." In addition to his usual attire, he still has an off-white cord wrapped around itself and tucked carefully behind his belt, showing up bright against his rich blue tunic. Spotting the blonde-haired knight showing off for the crowd, he laughs and points him out, "And there is Sir Seth as well, who squired with Uncle Caedfel. It seems as if this race will be Dinton-heavy."

Having watched this gathering from afar for a little while another figure on horseback trots up to join the race. Fayne is seated atop a pitch black rouncy and the black haired knight looks faintly curious as he studying those who will race. After a moment of thought he raises his own hand. "Sir Fayne de Stapleford." The large man states in an even tone his expression rather composed, neither excited nor worried.

A horserace is just the thing to draw people out of their tents and back into the fray of elbow to elbow people. Among them is Seren, only she is standing nearby Lysanor and the group she is with. There is a brief look to Amalthea, "She does look confident on her horse." Though almost immediately, she seeks out Cyndeyrn, the person she had arrived with to the event. Only then does she notice the bit of cloth tied to his arm and she blushes, listening to him introduce himself. "I hope they both do well."

Seth checked his Horsemanship of 13, he rolled 9.
Fayne checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 6.

With all the racers lined up, Iolo flashes a grin, "Alright, good luck, fair play, and may the wind be at your back!!" He exclaims, Waving his hat about a bit, "GO!!!" He shouts.

Martyn checked his horsemanship of 14, he rolled 15.

Arian de Laverstock has been spending much of the festivities so far with her family. But at the news of a horse race, she abandoned Lainn and her cousins to venture out beyond the city walls to observe. She may even be be tempted to compete, but her father would never forgive her if she hobbled one of her horses in such an extracurricular activity. So she just loiters, peeking around the gathered crowds. She is still — mostly — in her courtly finery, though Arian has always had a modest approach to said finery. The gown celebrates spring with its lively green hue and flowering embroidery. Her hair is still twisted and braided back in an intricate style, woven with fresh flowers. The real change is her shoes, which have gone from the delicate slippers of a lady to the more practical boots of a knight. When she spots the loitering Dintons, she heads their way — finding comfort in familiar company.

Cyndeyrn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 1.
Bradwyn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 11.

Spotting the flashy Seth and his oddly long hair settle in nearby Bradwyn looks over and asks, "Perhaps a friendly wager Sir Seth? If I beat you I get to trim your mane to something more befitting a knight?" a playfulness in his tone, suggesting it is a friendly wager he is offering.
He then looks to Amalthea as she speaks of 'ladies first' and says, "That would imply you are not an equal Lady Amalthea. I have seen you handle horses, I would not say you have a failing there." offering a respectful nod. Then the call goes out to start and the tall man spurs on his rouncy and rides forward, trying to get what speed he can out of the animal.

Amalthea checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 5.
Catryn checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 18.

When the singal is given Fayne is surprisingly quick to urge his black rouncy forward. The beast starts off at a good pace and gallops along, not as fast as some but Fayne is clearly a decent rider if not overly competitive. He actually seems to be doing alright but he doesn't notice whoever might be behind him. He urges his horse a bit more trying mostly out of curiousity to see if he can manage to overtake those in front of him.

Seth's blue eyes cooly sweep toward Bradwyn as the friendly wager comes up, smiling back in response - though the smile goes no further than his lips, "Many a woman and man have tried to obtain a locke of my hair Sir. You'll have to be a little more creative than a wager, I'm afraid. Though I do admire your tenacity - it is quite charming." He's denied the wager easily and rebuffed Bradwyn, as if the other had made advances on him! Ooo swoon worthy isn't he? Then with a rumbling chuckle, he is off in a flash of … blond hair.

It would seem that Martyn's horse is a slow starter, since he seems to fall behind so far. "Come on, come on," the Baverstock offers to the animal a bit quietly, urging it to speed up a bit. "You can do it…" Not really paying attention to what other people that might be falling behind so far.

Lysanor checked her awareness of 9, she rolled 16.

If Amalthea had a reply for Bradwyn, it's lost to the swoooooosh of wind and hooves as she urges her mount to spring from the starting line, resting low upon the saddle. It's as natural as breathing to the stablemaster of Dinton, and the Lady manages to keep pace with the men for now, her dark braid streaming out behind her, an echo of her horses' mane.

Lining up with all the other racers, Cyndeyrn will cast a last glance down toward the assembled crowds, picking out friends and family amongst those many faces and perhaps making sure he does not lose track of one particular person among all the lot. But once they seem nearly ready to race, eh turns his attention full ahead, knowing well enough that even without lances waving about, galloping horses can pose some danger of injury! Besides, he wants a clear view of the front of the front. The bard calls for them to start, and he gives his steed a squeeze of the knees, prompting it to a full run in good speed. For now, he seems at a pace with most of the rest, save a few with slower starts.

"Yes, Sir Seth is a difficult one to miss." Lysanor says with a light-hearted laugh and though she may not know her uncle's former squire all that well, the man is so terribly easy to recognize with that long, lustruous hair. Why, it is nearly as beautiful as her own rather unruly, at times, red locks. Hearing Seren's words, she turns briefly to the lovely scribe, catching the girl's cheek so warm with color. Her eyes, however, do not see what Seren does, the favor which her dear brother wears on his arm. "They are all off to a good start, well, most of them anyway." Of course, she is hoping that Cyndeyrn wins and if not her brother, then Amalthea! Or that they tie. To Kamron, she does note, "Amalthea was certainly born to ride."

Her horse doesn't like her. Or it found the grass a delight, after all the grass was greener on the other side and all that. When the signal is done, Catryn nudges her horse and remains standing there. With sharp laughter, she curses the blasted beast before it finally takes off, shooting off towards the others, but it has put her far behind.

"And they are off!!" Iolo calls out, "It appears everyone is keeping rather even, though Sir Martyn and Sir Catryn appear to have been a bit slow off the line!" He calls out from his slightly wobbly little platform he stands upon. A boy rushes out with a stick, once all the horses are past the line, dragging a deep gouge across the dirt path to mark the finish line.

Seth checked his Horsemanship of 13, he rolled 8.
Critical Fail!
Fayne checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 20.
Cyndeyrn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 3.
Martyn checked his horsemanship of 14, he rolled 5.
Amalthea checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 12.
Catryn checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 11.
Bradwyn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 10.

Kamron gives a shout as the riders are off, looking over to his cousin and nodding with a laugh. Glancing over to the Woodford, he arches his brows up, "And is that your favor that I spy, Lady Seren? I'm sure that it will inspire Deyr to allow him to at least keep up with Thea." Yes, he is definitely a nickname sort. And then the Laverstock arrives on the scene, and he turns his bright smile in her direction, "Lady Arian, you are looking lovely indeed. Very delicate." Now he's just teasing her, but he doesn't appear to have come up with a nickname for her yet… or at least not one that he's sharing in public.

Bradwyn continues to keep pace, though he seems more focused on the track ahead than his competition, he doesn't even respond to Seth's flirtations, if they can be called that. Whether skill or determination, he is keeping pace with the leading riders at least.

Oh the wind doth sigh through those lustrous blond lengths as the Shrewton keeps his rouncy near the top of the pack at the beginning of the stretch. He actually checks over his shoulder to smirk toward Bradwyn, whether good natured or not is unclear, it's hard to tell on that pristine chiseled face and at such speed. Somehow he avoids getting choked by his hair just yet! Putting his shoulders forward, Seth encourages the dappled grey to surge ahead, hooves thundering down the lane…

Who was Sir Seth? Seren was too busy watching Cyndeyrn as he looks back, though as they race off, she looks to Lysanor, "Sir Seth?" The query given as well as a look nearby to see if there was someone she had missed. "They are doing well." She observes when no one in the immediate vicinity seems to be someone she had yet to meet. Having recouped from the initial bout of blushing at seeing the Dinton wearing the favor, when she hears Kamron, she cannot help but to blush again. Lifting a hand to her cheek, she attempts to play it off. "I am certain they both will do well," she says diplomatically. A smile of a greeting is given to Arian. "Good day, Sir Arian."

Fwwwwwooooooooooooosh, thump, thump, thump, thump! That's the sound of a Lady keeping pace with the men. Amalthea's laughter is likely audible to those around her, the pure joy of being mounted and going almost full tilt across the land a thing she does not bother to suppress. At the same time, she takes the well-being of her rouncie seriously, careful to keep the beast from flailing hooves and holes in the ground. Occasionally, she ducks low to wipe the bugs from her chin on her poor sleeve.

Well-accustomed to his place in the saddle, Cyndeyrn continues to ride hard, holding his steed to a fast pace. With two racers having dropped behind, there is a little more room for the frontmost four to spread out and he does just so, making sure there is little chance of crashing into one of the others - at least for now, when there's no need of any daring attempts at passing one another or fighting for position on the curves. The crowd is too far behind now to admire, but he will glance aside to check on the position of his fellow Dinton rider, no doubt considering their family horse breeder a considerable challenge in such a contest! And… she's laughing. That's not the best sign!

At least now Martyn's horse has managed to pick up some speed, moving forward again at a good speed now. "That's good…" Making sure he stays out of the way of any possible crashes, he smiles as he ducks down a bit in the saddle.

Now that Catryn has her groove going, she leans forward in the saddle and let's the Rouncy run. And run he does! Riding hard, she seems to be recouping a little speed as her and the horse rush forward. Still, they are far behind the leaders, but it's just not in her to give up.

"OOH! That looked like it hurt." Iolo grimaces just a touch, "It looks like they are all keeping things tight, however, it's still anyone's match!" He calls, watching the racers continue off down the hill, towards the first turn in the road.

"Careful, Sir Kamron," Arian replies with an impish smile as she finishes her approach. "Even the most delicate flower can possess a poison that leaves the greatest of men at its mercy." The Pagan knight regards the races with her brows arched with interest. She winces quite suddenly when Sir Fayne ends up in the dirt, and she shakes her head. "That looked quite painful." When Lysanor greets her, she brightens with her dimples a-glow. "Lady Lysanor, thank you. Quite a bit of fun after a rather spectacular day, hm?"

Catryn checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 18.
Bradwyn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 10.
Critical Success!
Cyndeyrn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 15.
Seth checked his Horsemanship of 13, he rolled 5.

With the horses charging down the track, Lysanor finds herself bouncing lightly on her heels, her hands clapping in time with each bounce. That bouncing finally stops and she gestures out towards the knight with long platinum whipping in the wind, "That is Sir Seth de Shrewton. He squired for my uncle, Sir Cadfael, though that may have been before your time at Sarum castle, for they spent much time training there. Though she, herself, did not take notice of it, Kamron does and when she is informed of the favor tied to her brother's arm, her hands come together, fingers clapped, "Awww." Her smile broadening, she looks to Seren once more, believing the girl to be very lucky! For one, she has a brave and handsome and strong knight wearing her favor. And on top of that, this knight is her brother! With Arian's arrival, Lysanor offers a polite smile and friendly words, "Sir Arian, here to see the races with the rest of us. My brother and cousin are both competing!"

Amalthea checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 7.
Martyn checked his horsemanship of 14, he rolled 13.

Bradwyn keeps pace, though Cyndy does gain a slight edge, Bradwyn calls over, "Like the wind Lady Amalthea!" is he actually cheering her on, as she seems to catch at least soem of her joyous laughter.

Kamron laughs easily at Seren's words and blushing, "The color is very becoming on you, Lady Seren." It's clear that Amalthea and Kamron are family by the ease with which they both laugh. Still, he rests a hand on the Woodford lady's forearm for a moment to take any sting from his words. Arian then captures his attention, and he laughs again, "And so we are considered brave who dare to enjoy the company of the most delicate flowers such as yourself." Okay, now he's teasing two ladies at once.

At least he's gotten some people behind him now. And so Martyn keeps on moving forward, shaking his head a little bit as he keeps on going. "Good going, good going."

Amalthea doesn't even look unhappy when Cyndeyrn's horse takes the lead. She keeps the stable for that horse! It's more a matter of pride than anything that keeps her laughing, and likely swallowing a bug or two in the process. "If only!" she calls back to Sir Bradwyn's exuberance with her own. "My dream!" She doesn't look for him, though. Her eyes are laser-focused on the track and the fore.

And while the other Dinton is laughing in her outright delight at the love of riding, the family heir is every bit now his typically -serious- self. Leaning forward to press down against his mount's neck, though carefully keeping his eyes above its flapping mane, Cyndeyrn waits for what he thinks is the moment and urges just a little more speed from the animal. It may only be a length or so that he pulls ahead, but it is the makings of something if he can maneuver from there into greater advantage, the next few moments determining what, if anything, he can make of the opportunity, while Amalthea's laughter seems to chase him.

Argh! Catryn is having more trouble with her horse than she was in getting along with it and once more she finds herself trailing terribly behind, only one slower than she! A poor showing all around, but the Burcombe doesn't have it in her to give up, so on she rides.

Seth shakes his head in the wind, loving that wind (or really just trying to keep bugs out of his face). He's keeping his horse with the pack but is losing ground to the leader. He hears the laughter and glances over toward Amalthea, reining his horse to pull his more astride with her own. "Then let us hasten your dream hence my fair lady!" Would he truly suggest losing for the sake of Amalthea's win?

"It looks like Sir Cyndeyrn has taken the lead, just by a nose!" Iolo calls to the audience, "Sir Fayne is slow to get up though, it appears his Squire is helping him off the track, I hope he's all right!" He adds.

Looking among the riders, Seren is quickly able to spot the one in question, the long flowing hair a give away. "Perhaps it was before my time. I may have seen him in passing, though I never caught his name. His hair is beautiful." Her attention goes back to the taller of the riders before it is drawn back to Lysanor and Kamron with Arian. Like Lysanor, Seren thinks herself to be very lucky indeed! The teasing from Kamron is met with a smile, amused for it despite the color in her cheeks, clearly not taking offense in his jest. As Cyndeyrn takes the lead, she lifts a hand to touch Lysanor's arm, "He has taken the lead," she says softly, drawing the attention back to the riders.

Seth checked his Horsemanship of 13, he rolled 7.
Martyn checked his horsemanship of 14, he rolled 8.
Catryn checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 4.
Bradwyn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 3.
Cyndeyrn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 3.
Amalthea checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 10.

Most of the race finished Bradwyn holds his course, focus ahead. Showing even tall men can ride well.

Catryn doesn't really pay attention to who is in the lead, mostly, she's worried about keeping herself out of last place. It doesn't seem to be working for her but she always finishes something she starts. Ducking a little further in the saddle, she rides hard towards the finish, so many so far ahead of her.

Amalthea doesn't glance aside to see the glory of Seth's hair, but she is suitably distracted by his words. "Do not dare!" she calls back, amusement and determination warring in her bouncing tone. Still, her attention to Seth's words are enough to keep her from overtaking her cousin's lead. "Ride for sheer joy!"

And likewise, Martyn's main focus isn't on getting in the lead, there seems to be too much distance left there, but rather keeping Catryn well behind him still. And not falling off the horse, of course.
<OOC> Bradwyn says, "and anyone else hear seth neigh when he flicked his head? ;)"

With Kamron's gentle teasing to Seren, Lysanor's eyes only light upon her friend's rosy cheeks briefly, not wanting to make Seren fell even more uncmfortably, despite the joy which can be very evident in the Woodford's features. It is then that Sren points out that her brother has taken the lead, that Lysanor lifts herself up on tiptoes as if to try and get a better view of this lead, despite alreading being in the front row with no one else to block her view. "He is, isn't he? And Amalthea is so close behind." She was filled with this nervous energy as the race continues on.

The Laverstock seems at ease with the Dintons and the Woodford. Arian watches the race with interest, arching up on the balls of her feet — she is quite a shorty despite her petite company — to get a good look to see how the pair of Dintons are fairing. She then drops to her heels, looking thoughtful as she rubs at her lower lip. "I should have bet on the Dintons," she says off-handedly — not that there was actually betting. Was there?

"The racers are in it to win it, it seems!" Iolo calls, "Sir Cyndeyrn still appears like he is in the lead, but he has several still close behind him! Can he pull it off?? They'll be coming up the hill and across the line any moment now, everyone!"

Seth checked his Horsemanship of 13, he rolled 18.
Bradwyn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 19.

That small lead holds for a few more ground-pounding strides, and Cyndeyrn does what he can to make good on it, cutting across the makeshift track further to the inside, to present an obstacle to the riders behind him. All that remains ahead is the open straightaway to the finish line only recently drawn in the dirt, and for him there's no question of making further gains in speed, of pushing his horse beyond the limits it may have already reached. Rather, it is now a matter of simply holding what he has, urging of his faithful steed to keep pace just that much longer so that the others cannot pass him in a final sprint.

Martyn checked his horsemanship of 14, he rolled 17.
Cyndeyrn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 18.
Catryn checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 3.
Amalthea checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 1.

Seth gives a brightly charming laugh for Amalthea's response but does loose ground for it - whether on purpose or not… He veers toward Bradwyn's horse!

Catryn checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 3.

Kamron calls out, "Dinton! On Dinton!" Shaking his head as he watches the race, leaning forward himself, and then mostly giving up and offering Lysanor a hand at her elbow so that she can balance up on her toes to watch her brother and cousin racing better. And then his other hand reaches out to catch Arian's elbow and support her as well, "You should always bet on the Dintons, Sir Arian."

Seth checked his Horsemanship of 13, he rolled 6.
Cyndeyrn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 1.
Martyn checked his horsemanship of 14, he rolled 8.

And there. That's the trouble for Martyn. His horse has to slow down to avoid an obstacle in his path, which makes the horse slow down. "No… Not now, please… Come on…" he mutters to the animal, focusing on picking up the speed again now.

Critical Fail!
Bradwyn checked his horsemanship of 15, he rolled 20.
Martyn checked his horsemanship of 14, he rolled 18.

Maybe it's the joy that drives her? Or maybe it's slightly cheating that she knows the stride of both horses in the lead. Whatever it is, Amalthea clucks quietly into the ear of her dappled rouncie and the creature, like it was just waiting for the lady's whisper, surges forward in a pop of muscled glory to nose juuuuuuuust passed her cousin's steed. Probably, her laughter rings in his ears as her braid whips by him across the finish line.

Bradwyn rolls 1d6 and gets (6) for a total of: (6)

As Seth veers towards him Bradwyn's horse rears back at the sudden movement, the giant unable to keep control, though at least he remains in the saddle, though only barely. He then snaps, "Mind your horse you fool! And cut that hair so you can actually see where you are going!" clearly not happy. Whether from falling behind, or simply for the near collision is anyone's guess. As Seth regains control and returns to the race the blonde hair flails into the face of Bradwyn's horse causing the tall man to struggle even more to remain in his seat, as his face visibly reddens, likely with anger. It isn't long after before the rouncy rears up high and wild, seemingly thrown into a panic by the hair as the tall man lands hard on his back, then rolls aside to get clear of the panicked beast bucking and jumping about.

"I cannot believe how close the riders are!" Seren exclaims as the race continues on. It could be anyone's race.. except that in last. The Burcombe gets a quick but dismissive glance. "I think you would have won, they both seem to be doing very well," she tells Arian. As it comes to the very end, she waits in silence, eager to see the victor. As Amalthea wins, she looks to Lysanor and smiles, "It was a very good race!" Still she waits to watch the others cross.

And this why one should never bet against the family breeder and trainer in a competition of horseflesh! Although Cyndeyrn makes a good play for it, his very fear for the last stretch proves itself true with almost predestined certainty, that in urging that little extra speed from the rouncy earlier, the horse now begins to falter and tire, even as Amalthea gains from behind at her ever-steady pace. Cyndeyrn cannot help but shake his head, realizing he has lost even before she fully passes him, and not so much in dissapointment but in a small echo of her own ever-present amusement as the laughing woman goes right past. Still, even in recognizing his all too imminent defeat, he is resolved not to -otherwise- be bested, and manages to urge a second wind from his steed, enough to bring it across the finish line not far behind the other Dinton. And as they thunder past and then slow at the far side of the line, he will call, "I should have known better than to think I might have -ever- had you, you know our animals far too well."

Seth is quickly able to right the steer of his animal and makes a hand gesture to Bradwyn, one that was sportsmanship like to give an apology for the near collision! It was near and their horses hadn't actually gotten so close as to rub stirrups! As it is, the man doesn't even think about spurring off, hearing the sound of someone falling behind him but continuing the race. Some had bad luck. As he crosses the finish line, he rides his horse in stride with Amalthea, "Good woman, you are a fair rider, graced by the wind I say. Congratulations on the win." His smile deepens for her, just enough to be attractive. But he has to cool down his rouncy and he continues to keep the horse in a lope down the stretch that they had begun upon.

"Careful now, can someone get Sir Bradwyn's horse under control??" Iolo asks, "Is his Squire about??" he peers a bit, "Lady Amalthea, Would you care to join me up here, for a moment, once things calm?" he adds, flashing a bright smile towards the winner.

Lysanor is appreciative of Kamron's help, even if she continues to lift her chin up so that she may see better. "Look at them go. I would have lost control of my own horse right at the beginning. Perhaps, I may request Amalthea's assistance in horsemanship, just as I am relying on you, Lady Seren, to help perfect my penmanship." In time with her cousin's chanting of their family name, she, too, speaks the name 'Dinton' in a much quieter tone, like a whispered prayer. In the heat of the race, places continue to shift so fluidly that it's difficult to tell who would emerge on top. And yet, in the very end, both Amalthea and her brother, Cyndeyrn come out victorious and so she cannot help but applaud for them with more fervor than she usually will show. "Amalthea was so beautiful out there. And it was oh so close." Noticing who has come in third, she does have to comment, "And Sir Seth, trained by my uncle as well, has finished third." It certainly was a Dinton victory! She now, even turns to smile more brightly at Arian, "We not only have fine riders, but Amalthea helps to breed and raise some of the finest horses."

Catryn has managed to coax her horse to do a little better than before but as she passes one, she doesn't look back, instead watching the back end of the Baverstock duo, the horse and his rider. Never during the race is she able to over come her two fumbles and she comes in fifth place. Just behind the Baverstock. She smirks over at him, "Nice riding." Looking towards the other two, the winners, she nods to Amalthea, "Well done." The taller man is also given a nod. "You as well."

"You might have had me!" Amalthea calls exuberantly to Cyndeyrn as she reigns her creature to a slower canter, cooling the beast. "It was a near thing. I think, perhaps, next time you will!" There's a bright flash of smile for her cousin before Thea is momentarily distracted by the gloriousness that is Seth. Her cheeks flush, but they already were so it would be hard to notice. "Thank you, Sir! I hope you did not throw the thing for my cause alone." Her gaze casts about for the others and she notes Catryn's arrival with unconcealed awe. "Thank you!"

Frowning as things didn't go as well as he had hoped, Martyn crosses the line, and then slows the animal down. There's a brief pause as he hears Catryn's words, offering a nod in return. "You as well," he offers, before he offers a grin in Amalthea's direction. "Well done." And then he moves to watch the rest of the proceedings, before retiring for the night.

Seth tilts his head at Amalthea, "I wouldn't dare to consider your talents less than my own that I'd have to throw the race. Your dream inspired it I'm sure!" He smiles winningly, "Let there be another chance that we may yet compete again, so you know what I say is true. Truly talented you are, my lady. Truly splendid." He settles back down into his saddle, turning his horse for home, "I should endeavour to learn your secrets over dinner shared, perhaps?" Oh he flipped his hair so it settled in stringy lengths behind him, a dashing sight. "Look for me at the Shrewton's pavilion if it should be of your fancy. For I fear it is mine. Fair thee well," he smiles at her and turns to his squire, dismounting and seeing the reins to the lad. He's mounting up on another stallion quite so soon, his charger - a white one of course. A wave is granted to the audience prior to his departure. Poor Bradwyn doesn't even register in his thoughts.

Seren bounces on her feet as the winner is given and the second winner. Then the third! "My lady, you must be very proud! If allowed, I would like to take lessons with Lady Amalthea too, if able. I have had plenty of practice riding when out with the Dinton's." A smile plays over her features as she watches the congratulations given. "I do look forward to the tournament events and seeing how everyone fares."

With Kamron's hand on her elbow, Arian's attention drops briefly from the race to smile at the knight. "I will have to keep that in mind," she says wryly before she joins the cheers for the Dintons who cross the finish. She glances over toward Lysanor, and she dimples once more. "That is quite an accomplishment. My uncle Gareth does the same for the Laverstocks… I am quite impressed with anyone who can take such a wild creature and turn them into a companion. Your cousin is quite a bold woman for taking on such a task." Then she smiles knowingly toward Seren as she expresses her own excitement for Cyndeyrn's success.

Once clear of the stomping hooves, Bradwyn slowly regains his footing, taking a hard hit to the back which may well bruise. Once on his feet he walks over and lifts his hands slowly in front of his horse and starts to speaking soothingly to the animal. Calm, soft words. The gentleness and how soothing his tone is may or may not surprise others given his abnormal size. It takes him several minutes but he does end up settling the horse enough to grab the reigns, pulling the rouncy closer and whispering into its ear, gently stroking the mane to ensure the animal doesn't hurt anyone in its state.
Once settled, and as none stepped forward to help with the horse, he may well not have a squire, or at least one that didn't follow him. Striking blue eyes scans those gathered, however the only sign of Seth is blonde locks floating away like some kind of floating, writhing snake. Any who might look his way can tell the tall man is quite angry, but for now doesn't pursue, likely as he wouldn't catch up without his horse, who is still too excited to risk. Especially given the affect of that hair.

"Thea! Huzzah Thea!" Kamron cheers on his cousin, then adds in, "Deyr! On Dinton! Well ridden!" And then there's another crash, and Kamron winces, "Oh no… that looks… bad." Nodding to Seren and Lysanor, he adds, "I'm sure she would be happy to offer lessons to you both… especially after this win." His hand drops down from Lysanor's arm, and he chuckles, "Her father was stablemaster before her. It's the family business, you might say."

"I don't know," Cyndeyrn calls back at Amalthea. "Perhaps I might. Though, racing you, even should I win, I'd feel as though I owed you the victory in any case, as I could not do it without such fine steeds as you ever guarantee grace our stables. They are the overwhelming victors here, and you their master." That said, he leads his horse a few steps over to the sidelines where his squire waits, and quickly dismounts so the beast can be relieved of his weight and be led to water, "… And a carrot in praise of its performance," he instructs his lad. Then it is that he will look to the crowd and go to find those members of the family that were not out beating him! "Sister, cousin," he offers first, and then, schooling any remaining enthusiasm some, as maybe not to seem too… well, who knows: "Lady Seren. Ah, and Sir Arian too."

With Cyndeyrn's praise and Seth's flirtation ringing in her ears and heating her cheeks, Amalthea takes the care of her own horse to better deal with this unexpected rush of good things. This, after all, is where she feels most comfortable. As she dismounts and leads her rouncy to be watered (checking on Cyndeyrn's in the process; can't quite break the habit, probably much to the chagrin of his squire) and patted down, properly curried. Out of the spotlight, she can collect herself.

As none seem to even notice that there was a panicked horse only a few feet away from possibly kicking at least some in the head due to the excitement of the victory, the pagan knight rubs the side of the rouncy to calm them a bit more before turning from the gathering to lead the horse back, obvious pain in his movements as he goes. Still none were harmed… At least yet…

Iolo remains standing up on his little rickety platform, watching as Bradwyn manages to get his horse under control, "Are you alright, Sir Bradwyn, that was quite the fall you took there!" He says, his gaze taking a moment to scan about to see where lady Amalthea has gotten off to.

"It was an honorable win!" Seren declares to Kamron. "And so many around to witness it. I imagine it could be something told about for awhile. How the lady had outdone even the knights! As Cyndeyrn approaches, she offers a smile, "That was an impressive race, you did really well. I look forward to meeting Lady Amathea, I would like to ask it of her, the training, perhaps we could all go riding together."

Lysanor checked her proud of 16, she rolled 18.
Lysanor checked her modest of 4, she rolled 7.

When both her brother and cousin come to join them now, Lysanor can hardly contain her excitement. "You both did so well, outpacing the rest!" Looking out towards the other riders in the distance now, including Bradwyn's wayward horse, she comments, "I do feel badly for Sir Martyn, he had a bit of bad luck along the way. But the both of you, have led the pack for the entirety of the ride!" To Kamron she nods very quickly, "I do hope so, Kamron." And with Amalthea being right there, she intones in a slightl louder voice, "Cousin, if you do not mind, I… would perhaps, at some point, like to hone my riding skills."

Amalthea checked her Modest of 13, she rolled 16.
Amalthea checked her proud of 7, she rolled 9.

"Thank you, my lady. I do feel as though I had some… extra wind at my back for the race, as well as the fine-bred steed beneath me." This is Cyndeyrn being subtle! Or at least, avoiding being too overt with discussing where that extra 'wind' might have come from. When Seren speaks further of the winner, he glances back to see if she has followed, and then is utterly unsurprised to note the woman off with the horses rather than rejoining the people. "It looks as though she is even now caring for our steeds, but I am sure she would love to meet you, and that we, ah, would all enjoy having you riding with us more, soon, ah, for for lessons." Then he smiles a little more easily at his sister. "It was a good race overall, though I do fear for a few of the tumbles I thought I saw behind. Hopefuly none are too badly injured for the upcoming tourney."

Amalthea is slow to joining her family, taking a few collective moments, but when she does join it's with a ready smile for them and a blushing thanks. She's a little proud, but if anything, it's pride for the horses themselves. "They did so well, did they not? Finer creatures I have yet to see. They'd give their hearts for us," the brunette enthuses, her cheeks still ruddy, but hopefully free of bug guts by now. "And I would be happy to give you lessons, cousin, but you may have to help in the stables or find someone willing to help, to give me the time free."

Iolo remains standing up on that platform for a bit longer, clearly having been waiting for something, though what it was appears to have since been forgotten. With a shrug of his shoulders though, he steps down off of it and heads to collect his lute before starting back the direction of the city.

"Well done, Sir Cyndeyrn," Arian says brightly to the Dinton. "I could not have done that." Then she smiles over toward Amalthea — a part of the Dinton brood she has not met yet. She bobs her head in agreement to Lysanor's compliment and request. "Amazingly done, Lady Amalthea… you even put a well-trained knight to shame with your riding skills." She smiles over to Kamron now. "You should introduce us." She is grinning at him, her nose wrinkling up in amusement.

Kamron nods his agreement with Seren, and as Cyndeyrn approaches, Kam looks out for Amalthea and raises his left hand to beckon her over as well, and then agrees with Lysanor, "So very well-ridden, Thea, Deyr. I thought you had her there for a while, Deyr." Looking back to Amalthea, he chuckles, "I should have known better." And then Arian prompts him for his manners, and he laughs easily, "You put me to shame, My Lady. Absolute shame." Still, he is smiling quite broadly, "Thea, this is Sir Arian de Laverstock, who accompanied Deyr and I to Tilshead and Exeter. Sir Arian, my cousin, Amalthea de Dinton, horsemistress at Dinton."

"Whatever it was you did, it was impressive. For a most of it, I thought you were going to remain in the lead." Following his gaze, Seren smiles as she sees Amalthea off with the horses. "I look forward to riding with everyone." She hesitates before adding, "For lessons." When Amalthea finally joins, Seren dips into a curtsy to the newer acquaintance, "My lady," she greets. "I am impressed with your ability with the horses! You did so well. I wonder if I could trouble you for lessons as well?"

Amalthea takes it all in stride, having hit her limit for pride and far surpassed it today. "I would be happy to help anyone, time permitting," she says, smiling all around. "But if you might excuse me?" There is a slight tip of her dark head to them all and she spins to dash off, after the departing Iolo. "Minstrel! Minstrel? I wanted to offer my thanks!" It may be unladylike to call out, but Amalthea does it anyway, forgetting herself.

"Oh, Lady Amalthea?" Iolo says, turning as the woman dashes off after him, a bright smile crossing his face, "Oh, you're quite welcome, your riding was quite the sight to behold, I must say, you should be proud of what you did! Perhaps you'll let me sing a song for you in the tavern at some point?"

"-I- should have known better," Cyndeyrn echeos Kamron, shaking his head. "Amalthea is a very skillful rider, but it is really more than that. She knows the animals well, and that is a decisive difference. We could have reversed places, and she would have recognized instantly when my horse was at its limit." As Amalthea rejoins them and Kamron makes some introductions, he glances between her and Seren, and perhaps may realize that the two may not yet know each other… and yet the other woman is almost just as quickly running off to chase down the bard, leaving him briefly open-mouthed without actual comment. "I am glad that we came, at any rate," and the 'we' does slip out there, without him seeming to notice or remember to be embarassed about it - maybe a sign of progress to come? "I was enjoyable to ride with spirit, but not for joust or warfare."

Amalthea pulls up short before Iolo, making a quick curtsey to the minstrel out of habit. Better to err on the side of caution. "My thanks, good sir. It was really the horses. I had an unfair advantage over my cousin, to be certain, in that I raise them." Her grin is cheshire and warm at the same time. "And I would enjoy a song. I do a small bit of singing and dancing myself, though usually only in the orchards where no one might hear or see. The courage you have to do such a thing in front of others is one I admire and envy."

"Thank you, my lady, I look forward to it." Seren watches as she moves off to meet the bard before she brings her attention back to those nearer. Introductions could come later, there was plenty of time! For once, there are no demands on her time and she finds herself just relaxing enough to enjoy the company though she does not miss the we he manages. A smile plays over her features at the slip but she does not reference it directly. "I am glad to have been able to watch you both ride." There is a slight hesitation as she looks back towards the main part of the town behind them. "I should try and find Acwel, he wanted to have a talk with me this evening."

"Goodness, I should avoid asking you to dance and sing for me, your cousin might be quite concerned if we were to slip of into the orchards together to do that!" Iolo exclaims with a laugh, "And my courage is no different then the courage you have to race your horse infront of, and against the best horsemen in the realms, and beat them, non the less!"

Amalthea blushes heartily at Iolo's exclaim. "Truly, I had an unfair advantage. They are trained to riding upon their steeds, and not simply riding for the thrill of it. They could do things I could not even dream of doing upon horseback." It's a bit of a wistful sentiment, truth told, and Thea is quick to change the subject. "Any road, I would be thrilled to hear you sing. I thank you once again, sir…" she pauses, tongue struggling. "I am sorry. I fear I know not your name, minstrel."

"Ah yes, of course!" Cyndeyrn exclaims, glancing back toward the main town and camping grounds. "I did not mean to keep you overly long." And while he does not voice it, the young knight obviously has some interest in those aforementioned discussions with her brother occuring promptly, and without interruption or cause for complaint on his part! "Allow me to a least walk you back to the town proper." They have left the safety of the town… at least technically. Thus there might be bandits or wolves in any bush! Or something. "It has been a long day, with all of this, and I might retire for some while as well." This said, since it is not quite so busy as things were earlier at the castle, he does glance around a bit and makes sure, "Sister, I will leave my squire in case you need him, though I would expect cousin Kamron can keep an eye on things as well."

Kamron nods to Cyndeyrn, "Yes, but you gave her a valiant fight." As Amalthea runs off to speak with the conductor of the race, Kamron chuckles softly, turning his smile over to Seren, "That would be our cousin Amalthea, in case you didn't catch the introduction I made so callously to only one of the lovely ladies not part of my family present, Lady Seren." His hand at Arian's elbow squeezes lightly, and then drops away, and he notes to the Woodford, "Do send my sister back when you find your brother, will you, Lady Seren?"

Iolo laughs softly, "The name is Iolo, and if you would like to meet me later, once you've stabled your horse and such, Lady Amalthea, I can play something for you. Though don't sell yourself short, having seen you in the saddle, I can imagine you can do a great many things in the saddle that a knight couldn't! Your humility is rather charming though, Lady Amalthea!"

It's a blush-a-thon, or perhaps a contest to see who might outcompliment the other. Amalthea blushes, but it's a bright, happy blush. "Thank you, Minstrel Iolo. I would be honored, and shall beg my cousin's permission forthwith." She gives him a dip of her chocolate-hued head, turning back to her family.

"I would not wish to take you from your family, but if you are retiring as well, I would gladly accept your offer, Sir Cyndeyrn." The introduction brings her to looking at Amalthea once again and she dips her head towards her, "Thank you, I will speak with her soon, I understand her time is busy." Tilting her head, she gives an impish smile, "I would make sure Acwel delivers her back safe and sound! It was good seeing you all, thank you for the company."

Cyndeyrn spares a moment longer to see if anyone else amidst the immediate nearby kith and kin has need of him, but failing that, soon turns fully to Seren. "Shall we then, my lady?"

Iolo inclines his head to the hurrying off Amalthea, grinning just a bit as she goes. He remains nearby still though, to see what comes of the young woman and her question.

As the crowds start to dissipate, Arian is left with the few that remain. She watches after Seren and Cyndeyrn, head tilted and expression thoughtful. "I believe the Dintons may have a betrothal soon announced…" Her gaze cuts back to Kamron, and her smile has gone impish. "I mean of course your cousin Deyrn and the Lady Seren." She then clasps her hands behind her back, carefully looking over the other Dinton knight. Then she notices the woven cord, and her brows arch. "Sir Kamron…"

Kamron nods slowly at Arian's words, his brows lifting as he remembers that she was not present at the morning session of the Court. Somehow, he doesn't even get skittish at her suggestion that there might be another betrothal in the Dinton household. Perhaps he didn't make the connection given recent events. "Yes, Deyr asked permission of Earl Robert to court Lady Seren in front of the whole court. Now we just have to get Sir Acwel's agreement as well, although considering that he will be carrying Wen's favor at the tourney here…" And then her glance down to his belt reminds him of the treasure there, and he reaches down, pulling the off-white braided cord from behind his belt and unfolding it with careful reverence, "My own gift from the High King and His Queen, My Lady. The handfasting cord which bound them together in matrimony." It wasn't a pagan touch to the wedding, not really… more a traditional one.

"Acwel is carrying Heulwen's favor?" Arian looks impressed. Though it is a momentary distraction from the cord that Kamron unfolds from his belt. She watches with mute fascination as he presents it. When he explains what exactly it is, her brows arch high above her eyes in a testament of awe. "That cord will carry a substantial amount of power, Kam… a handfasting ribbon or cord is a serious binding." Though she does not seem terribly frightened of it, just impressed. She tilts her head. "Why did you request such a gift?"

Kamron simply nods in response to Arian's first question, but he offers up his trademarked crooked grin at her second, "I asked Their Majesties for a token to remember the day and the radiance of their love for one another, for it was inspiring and provides hope to us all that there is true romance in the world." It's not his exact wording from Court, but something close. He holds the cord out in both hands for Arian to touch if she would like, "I thought I might receive a brooch or necklace to remember the day by. This was beyond my wildest imaginings."

Arian blinks, looking up at Kamron with a small tilt of her head. "Oh?" She starts to laugh now, and her smile bubbles gently at the corners. "Well… a fine gift for such a romantic knight." She gently takes his arm, giving it a squeeze. "You are bound to take good care of such a gift. Though wait until the Ladies of Court hear…" She teases him now as she starts to tug him along toward the city once more.

Kamron starts to fold up the cord again as Arian takes his arm, tucking it once more behind his belt, and this time tying it off lightly to ensure that it will not slip out and fall to the ground. He opens his mouth to respond to her words, and then she mentions the Ladies of the Court, and he freezes with his mouth open, his widening slightly in panic, "God Above… Wen was already mentioning songs and stories, but the Ladies." There is pure, unadulterated horror in his voice, although after a moment he blinks it away and manages a slightly-strangled laugh, "Mother Mary protect me." Clearing his throat and quickly changing the topic, he begins to lead Arian back toward the city, "So have you decided what you will ask of Their Majesties, Sir Arian?"

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