(514-05-19) A Day for Challenges
Summary: There are several challenges with many of the houses represented!
Date: 05-19-514
Related: Wedding Tournament
elrick isyld cyndeyrn bronwen lysanor idris catryn arian kamron dillion bartimaeus martyn aluksander bran miruan aeryn cynrain 


Tournament Field
The tourney grounds are little more than an open field, the grass spotty and bare in spots, with stands erected for the comfort of viewers, and more elaborate seating for the king, and the various high lords of the land. A larger expanse of ground has been set aside for the mock battles of the melee, and the area surrounding the tourney grounds has been set aside for the tents and pavilions of the visiting knights.

--
Changing from the trappings of a Lady into the armor of a Knight doesn't take as long when you have a competent squire to help with the transformation. Isyld is wearing her armor with pants and boots, a shield and … axe? Held by her squire. The sword is also nearby, but all are the practice, blunted instruments used for the challenges. Taking to the field, she finishes braiding her long hair back, tying it off with a small strip of leather before donning her gloves and giving Evae, her squire, a smile. "Shield first, then my axe."

Cyndeyrn arrives in the company of his squire and perhaps Lady Bronwen, while some other knights follow in their own group. Since he has not yet had time to fully arm, the man goes and attends to this first, finding a place on the sidelines for his squire to help him don his armor, first the red and blue padded coat and then his mail proper. Helm, shield and sword soon all follow, until the large Dinton knight looks properly ready for the field.

Where there's a Bodenham, there might be yet another. Idris arrives, squire in tow. He wears a dark red tabard that proudly displays the coat-of-arms of his family, a blackened suit of chainmail underneath and a pair of sheathed swords at his side. The squire hurries along to secure the shield to the knight's arm, while the knight himself is preoccupied with setting his helmet on and strapping it in place. When that's done, it seems he's ready to fight: come what may.

Success
You check your heraldry at 10, you rolled 3.

Not yet entrusted with a squire yet, Elrick arrives later than the rest, as he wanted to finish the ale without being rushed and then takes the time don his knightly armor. The suit of chainamil is worn over a tabard that shows that this particular knight is from House Laverstock. The blade that he will be using is still sheathed at his hip while the helm is tucked under his arm. Seeing that more knights have gathered, Elrick's lips curl up into a grin as it will be a good show now of everyone's martial prowess.

Failed.
Idris checked his heraldry of 3, he rolled 8.

Having taken some minutes to prepare himself as well, Martyn is followed by a squire, as he's armored himself. Smiling as he speaks to the squire, who nods eagerly at something that's said. Nodding to the others present, the Baverstock offers a grin. "Time for some interesting things, hmm?"

Aha the challengers all arrive, though Martyn catches her eye when he comes with his squire. Motioning him over with her axe, Isyld offers a smile. "Would you accept a first challenge from me, Sir Martyn?" Dipping her head in greeting all the while. "I would be honored if you would."

Once armed and nearly ready, Cyndeyrn pauses for one last detail, taking some bit of cloth and securing it around one arm, and then seems ready. Since Martyn and Isyld pair off, he nods toward the remaining knight. "Sir de Laverstock," he addresses him, a bit more formally. "Shall we have a match as the others do?"

Smiling as he hears Isyld's words, Martyn offers a grin in return. "It would be my honor to accept the challenge, Sir Isyld," he replies, as he steps over.

As Elrick observes the knights present who are ready for the personal challenges, his focus turns to the knight that approaches him, one that is actually slightly bigger than him. Nodding his head respectfully to Cynderyn, the Laverstock Knight appears to have no hesitation in his response, "Sir de Dinton, I would be glad to. I am Sir Elrick, brother to Sir Lainn and Sir Arian. Look forward to crossing blades with you."

Bronwen is off on the sidelines of course, looking suitably excited by the impending violence! She's taken a spot near Cyndeyrn, whom seems to enjoy her support for the time being. She does spot this little bit of ritual with the cloth tied 'round his arm, and her lips purse lightly in thought, at least until her brother appears and distracts her. "Brother!" she calls, waving. "Are you to join in?"

"Sir Cyndeyrn ap Cynfarch," the Dinton replies. He might be a little better known, as the vassal knight of his family, or maybe not! "I do know Sir Arian well enough," he will also remark, "we had occasion to fight a force of saxons together, some weeks ago." Moving forward, he makes a salute with his weapon and takes up a ready position. "When you are ready, Sir."

With the approach of Martyn, Isyld smiles, taking her axe in hand. "I hope you don't mind my weapon of choice.' She taps it lightly on her shield and offers a purely feminine smile despite her knightly appearance. "Thank you for accepting, Sir." With the challenge accepted, she tightens her hand on her axe. "At your ready, Sir." Prepared, taking a defensive stance, she awaits his attack.

"Not at all," Martyn replies to the mention of the weapon of choice. "It's all a good challenge to test oneself against other weapons." Smiling now, as he prepares to attack, starting to circle slightly before he makes the attack, sword ready.

Success
Martyn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 8.

"Bronwen," Idris greets his youngest sister, nodding affirmatively to her question. "I am. I am waiting for the outcome of any of these fights or possibly a new challenge to join in." He pauses, and glances between her and the Dinton knight, "Were you in company, then?"

Success
You check your axe at 15, you rolled 2.
Failed.
Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 17.
Martyn rolls 4d6 and gets (5 5 1 6) for a total of: (17)

At the mention of the Saxons, Elrick's eyes narrow slightly though he does dip his head in a nod, "I'm glad you were at my sister's side when you faced those Saxons. Honored, Sir Cyndeyrn." With that, the Laverstock Knight raises his helm and slips it over his head. Then he secures the strap before making sure the shield on his arm is snuggly fit. Finally the blade to be used for these tourney competitions is drawn and the salute offered by the Dinton Knight is mirrored, "Ready, sir." With that, Elrick moves forward against his opponent.

Success
Elrick checked his Sword of 15, he rolled 13.
Success
You check your dex at 14, you rolled 7.
Elrick rolls 5d6 and gets (4 1 4 5 2) for a total of: (16)

Word travels quickly and Lysanor has heard that her brother had issued a personal challenge to someone in the spirit of the tournament festivities. By the time she arrives, she finds that the competitions have already started and so her gaze peers all the way across the field in the hopes that she can spot her brother from her distance, even as she makes her way through the gathered crowd. Cyndeyrn's large frame is difficult to miss and she can clearly make out the Dinton colors which he wears. So with that in mind, there is no need to distract him with her own presence, though she can barely keep her eyes off of him… just in case something happens!

Martyn manages to find a spot on her to make a hit, an unguarded hit even, slipping through her defenses as Isyld swings her axe. Hers doesn't strike firmly enough to score a point, but his does. Still, she does manage to keep her feet beneath her.

Cyndeyrn moves forward when both are ready. His style, while not reckless, could be called fairly graceless, a straight to the point sort of manner of fighting. He moves forward for a quick attack, trying to take advantage of his height and reach to land an early blow, although it falls on firm defenses, blade turned away and leaving him open to a strike from his opponent in return. Giving just a small nod in acknowledgment of the point, he steps back and seems to consider his further approach before moving in again.

"Well, I went to the tavern and I met a few of the Dinton ladies there, well not Lysanor, but the others, including one I'd not met before," Bronwen tells her brother, although her answers may be somewhat idle ones as her eyes follow the movement of the pairs of knights beyond. "And then Sir Cyndeyrn arrived. I'd only ever glimpsed him before, coming to fetch Lysanor or that sort of thing, but we were paired for hawking and he was -most- chivalrous when I thought I'd lost my bird, helping me retrieve her."

Elrick manages to stand firmly on his ground as the slightly larger knight approaches, his own blade at the ready. Seeing the attack coming, the Laverstock Knight blocks the blow neatly with his shield and takes the opportunity to counter with his own sword. The slash was quick but only hard enough where it glances off of the other knight's armor. The nod is returned but Elrick presses on, a man who appears the more relentless approach when taking on an opponent. Stepping forward, his shield briefly moves to the side as his right arm comes down with a slash of his blade.

Failed.
Elrick checked his Sword of 15, he rolled 16.

After his hit manages to get through Isyld's defenses, Martyn steps back a little to be ready for her attack, keeping his eyes on the other knight as he readies his sword carefully.

Failed.
Martyn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 18.
Success
You check your axe at 15, you rolled 9.
Isyld rolls 5d6 and gets (6 4 3 5 6) for a total of: (24)

"I see," Idris replies, obviously abbreviated in response as he, too, turns to regard the knights fighting. "As long as you are all right, I suppose there's nothing wrong with it. But at least I know the name of one of my possible opponents for the afternoon."

Success
Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 1.
Success
Martyn checked his dex of 12, he rolled 6.
Cyndeyrn rolls 6d6 and gets (1 1 1 3 3 3) for a total of: (12)

When the swing of the sword comes, Isyld has her axe up and ready to counter, and she swings it down towards him, deflecting his blow while making one of her own. Her feet move to put some strength behind it and she strikes, thereby evening the score one to one.

Perhaps the defensive stance serves Cyndeyrn better this time, as Elrick presses his prior advantage. While the Dinton gives up a little ground, his backstep puts up just beyond the ideal reach of his opponent's blade and he is able to push the overextended strike aside with his shield, while thrusting at the opening the other man's shield arm seems to offer. This time it seems he is able to score a hit, although the success prompts little in the way of celebration. Slightly more cautious than before, he closes in with his shield after the blow rather than going hard on the attack immediately.

"Alright?" Bronwen wonders, as if unsure what her brother may have meant. "I did get the bird back without any trouble, due to Sir Cyndeyrn's help. Oh!" And now she catches sight of an exchange there out on the field, the one in the Dinton colors landing a hit. "I heard he won his first round jousting, as well. I can see how… many might favor such a knight."

"Good strike…" Martyn offers to Isyld as he steps back a bit. Then relatively suddenly, he moves in for the next strike.
Failed.
You check your axe at 15, you rolled 19.
Success
Martyn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 5.
Martyn rolls 4d6 and gets (1 3 3 5) for a total of: (12)

"He is a pretty hefty fellow, hard to think he would not win his joust, after all," Idris comments, watching Isyld and Martin as they fight eachother. He idly brushes his thumb against a length of thin rope wrapped around his wrist, considering the fights as they occur. He looks to his sister at her last remark, "What do you mean?"

When Elrick's opponent closes in with the shield, he meets the maneuver head on and bashes his own shield against the other knight's. It isn't close to hard enough to knock Cyndeyrn down or backwards, but it appears the Laverstock's intention is to create a slight opening in that formidale shield defense. Once the hard contact of steel on steel is done, Elrick slashes out with the blade again, as if counting on the opening to be made and the Dinton Knight to not react fast enough to close the slight gap.

Failed.
Elrick checked his Sword of 15, he rolled 19.
Success
Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 9.

Josette comes upon the tourney with a bright smile curling her lips as her gaze finds that two seperate challenges at the moment. Her gaze though settling upon Sir Martyn and Sir Isyld.

With the swing of a sword, Isyld is hit losing the point and thusly the match. The hit wasn't strong enough to phase her much, but she does manage to lose with it. With a bow of her head and a warm smile, she cedes, "Well done, Sir Martyn, I look forward to watching you in further challenges." The match over, Evae, her squire, comes over and takes her axe and shield while Isyld takes the sidelines to watch.

Finding none of her other family members on the sideline, Lysanor does spot the pair of Bodenhams in the distance in her fruitless search and decides to brave the crowd and join them. Navigating her way through the various members of the cheering audience, she eventually reaches the siblings, just as she graces them with a curtsy in greeting. "Sir Idris de Bodenham," She says in all politeness, before her features brighten upon seeing the man's sister, "And Brownen!" Turning her attention back to the challenges, she notes, "My brother is out there now," Though she doesn't know his opponent and then her eyes narrow over towards the other pair, "And… Sir Martyn de Baverstock, I believe."

Cyndeyrn rolls 6d6 and gets (6 5 3 1 3 6) for a total of: (24)
Failed.
Elrick checked his Dex of 8, he rolled 15.

"Baverstock, you said?" Idris nods in a greeting to Lysanor, flashing her a brief smile as a greeting, "Then, Sir de Baverstock, I challenge you," he says, to Martyn, as he steps into the arena. The shield thusly strapped to his arm, and helmet in place, he is ready for the fight.

Getting in that hit, Martyn nods a bit, offering a smile in return to Isyld. "Well fought, Sir Isyld. I'll be looking forward to see some of your challenges as well." Nodding a bit as he moves into position to wait for the next challenger to appear. And look, there's Idris. "Challenge accepted, Sir," he replies with a grin, as he readies himself for this one.

Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 3.

Then, with the challenge accepted, Idris moves forward to strike at Martyn — it's nothing too special, a short arc towards the man's midriff as an opening move, while his shield remains close to his figure.

Cyndeyrn does not expect Elrick's more aggressive maneuver, clearly: he is usually the larger combatant and thus a poor target for such brute tactics, though Elrick is nearly of his stature and clearly bold as well. He braces against the impact, trying to hold his shield strong against the other man's onslaught and then putting up his sword to parry on the open side. Altogether, the defense of wood and iron holds, and then he breaks from it by shoving back hard, pushing his foe over his center of gravity even as he batters at him from behind his own shield once it swings back open. It is a suitably brutish finish to the whole thing, and even with the other man in the dirt, the Dinton seems impressed. "Well fought, sir, that was a strong attack." He will reach down with his shielded arm to offer the other something to grasp to rise, if he wishes.

Success
Martyn checked his Sword of 15, he rolled 10.

Oh, there are many things to excite Bronwen. Lysanor arrives, and so of course she turns to her friend, running up to clasp her hands if she will. "Oh Lysanor, you are right in time. Your brother is fighting and- oh, he's won! How wonderful, he's won! Such a great, strong, well-built knight." Danger, danger! And even then, her brother is also moving to take the field, and the girl cannot but follow him with her gaze. "I hope they both win all their matches!"

The maneuver by Elrick was certainly a gamble and this time it did failed as he was thrown backwards by Cynderyn's strength. Off-balanced, the Laverstock Knight is unable to prevent his fall and on the back he goes. With this being a mock battle, he wasn't hurt besides maybe a slight bruise from the fall but the wound is more to his pride. Seeing the proffered hand, Elrick reaches up and accepts the help back onto his feet. "Well fought, Sir Cynderyn, you have a very solid defense there. Was hoping to surprise you since I get the feeling you don't get too many other knights trying that against you. Victory goes to you, Sir."

Martyn rolls 4d6 and gets (4 6 4 4) for a total of: (18)
Critical Success!
Idris checked his dex of 8, he rolled 8.

Getting his own sword ready, Martyn gets his shield in place to block the incoming strike, just as his own strike goes for the shoulder of the other knight. Starting to back off a little after the strike has been delivered, his eyes are still on his opponent.

"Most do not come at me so directly," Cyndeyrn will admit to Elrick. "As often, it is them in the position of trying to subvert my own attempts at such. So it was well thought out. Just a little swifter or harder, and I might have well toppled." Amidst the chivalrous exchange of good manners, he turns to observe the other bout that has now begun, and in hearing some spirited cheering from the sidelines, notices that his sister has joined Bronwen. "Excuse me a moment," he asks of Elrick before turning to go over and greet them.

Unfortunately, Idris did not see that one coming. The hit strikes him on the shoulder, but it is not enough to knock him off balance. He remarkably stays on his feet after the sword swipe, but instead of stepping back, he advances on, using the shield as a forward charge in order to flank the opponent and strike him on his side.

Failed.
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 18.

Lysanor's own hands clasp onto Bronwen's. With how infectious Bronwen's excitement tends to be, usually Lysanor is swept up in all of it, but this time, she has her own reasons to be excited. "Lovely!" She exclaims, witnessing her big brother's victory. And though Lys would praise Cyndeyrn all day long, for she adored her brother, she does have to blink, that smile still on her lips though when her dear friend calls him well-built! To this, she adds in quickly, "Oh yes, he is quite strong and has always been, every since we were children." Whether her eyes meet with her brother's or not from her place in on the sidelines, she does raise a hand to wave at him, even if the mass of thick auburn locks upon her head is usually enough for him to pinpoint exactly where she is. "Sir Martyn had won against quite the formiddable opponent just the other day, but having seen your Lord Brother fight, I'd be a little nervous if I were one of his opponents."

Success
Martyn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 7.
Martyn rolls 4d6 and gets (3 1 3 5) for a total of: (12)

Inclining his head as his opponent excuses himself, Elrick sheathes his blade and with his hands freed, removes his helm for a moment. Releasing a long breath, the Laverstock looks down at the piece of equipment before glancing over to the other knights that are competing. Seeing that Isyld has finished her battle, he approaches, "Sir Isyld. How did your challenge go?"

Bronwen cannot keep from a somewhat impish smile as she and Lysanor speak of her brother. Watching the win with some open glee, her tone does drop more toward the conspiratorial after a moment, taking advantage of their physical closeness to whisper to her friend. "Do you happen to know… what that is he wears on his arm? Is it some lady's favor?" And then, abruptly she straightens, as the 'well-built' knight in question seems inbound to their position. Scramble! "Ah Sir Cyndeyrn, well fought!" Then she nods at Lysanor. "I am sure my brother will do very well," she says, even as… he is actually not doing so well! Still, hers is the sort of selective attention as not to focus on something like that even if she sees it!

Watching Idris as he steps forward, Martyn waits for the strike, bringing up his shield to block again, then doing a quick counterattack against he other man. That done, he steps back again, offering a smile to the other man. "Well fought, Sir."

"I wouldn't consider this well fought, but well done, Sir Martyn." Idris replies, having clearly been the loser of the match. He seems to take it well, considering the defeat. "Next time we see eachother, I will make sure to defeat you."

"I lost my challenge," Isyld offers with a smile, "You did very well out there. Would you like to face me in a challenge?" Making the offer, she looks to her squire to bring things to her. "If you are agreeable?"

Arriving near the two ladies, Cyndeyrn will offer them both a smile. "Sister, Lady Bronwen, I hope you have both enjoyed watching the matches?" He is obviously oblivous to any gossip going on between the two women there on the sidelines, but once near them, turns a bit so he can see Martyn and Idris fight. "I may go and offer him a challenge, as we have both won some boughts and the others seem likely to be engaged shortly."

A light chuckle is made by Elrick as he shakes his head, "Not well enough for a victory though. Sir Cyndeyrn is a formidable opponent, speed may be the better choie if you do face him." As for their own challenge, the Laverstock nods his head, "I am, not too often do I go against knights that wield an axe." Moving to where they will be facing off, Elrick slips his helm on again before pulling his blade free of its scabbard, offering a salute to Isyld.

Martyn nods as he hears Idris, offering the man a brief grin. "I will have to work hard on improving myself to avoid that, Sir," he offers with a smile.

The fiery-haired Dinton continues to clap enthusiastically for her brother, noting his approach, but she does half-turn to lean in a little closer to hear out what Bronwen has to say over the sounds of cheering around them. Perhaps, she had not noticed the ribbon around her brother's arm this time, but she had noticed it in previous events. "I do believe it is." She returns the whisper now, "A fair and lovely maiden who has captured my brother's heart." A sigh even escapes her lips, finding it all romantic. Standing on her tiptoes now, in an attempt to look beyond her brother at the challenge still going on behind him, she does frown a touch when she notes the outcome. For the moment, she will mention nothing about it. And there he is! "Cyndeyrn, you did so well out there." But hearing that her brother was planning on going off to fight yet again, another sigh escapes her lips, "I suppose this is the way to winning the personal challenges competition, I suppose."

Bronwen has no time to reply to Lysanor's answer before Cyndeyrn has already come over to join them, although it is hard for her not to react at all, some flicker of surprise and perhaps dissapointment flashing on her features. But it is well and wholly schooled away by the time the man reaches them. "You fought most well!" she congratulates him. "And it does seem the knights must endure many matches," she goes on to echo her friend. "All the greater proof of their great strength and resolve. Do not let us keep you, we will continue to cheer you from here, and hold hope your successes in our hearts." The plural is no doubt meant to include her brother too, who she does spare a brief glance, perhaps a little worried for his own fortunes.

"They are a round-robin, of sorts, if wholly unofficially so," Cyndeyrn answers his sister, somewhat acknowledging her point. "In a way, I find it tedious and not terribly… interesting, as so much very formalized, restrained fighting teaches us little. In comparison, the melee takes all the same knights and just throws them together at once. A far better recreation of the circumstances of battle, and likely to impart better lessons." For him, clearly, the tourney is a matter of exercise over show or sport. To Bronwen's well-wishes, he dips his head. "Thank you, my lady. I will do my best to live up to your high hopes and expectations." It is with that, that he will turn about, looking toward Martyn. "Sir, would you care for another match?"

"Sir de Chalke," Idris calls out to his family's nearby neighbors, those damn uppity Chalkes. "Care for a challenge or are you waiting for someone?"

"I would accept, Sir de Bodenham." Isyld smiles warmly, dipping her head, looking to Sir Elrick, "I will meet you after, if you would be agreeable." Taking her axe in hand and her shield, she motions towards the field a bit out, "I would be honored, thank you."

With the corners of his lips twitching up at Isyld's smile, Idris bows his head, lifting the blade as he joins the Chalke toward the field. He points the tip of the sword at his fellow knight and steps back, waiting for the signal to commence. The shield is kept close to his person.

Turning to offer a nod to Cyndeyrn as he hears the man's words, Martyn offers a grin. "It would be a honor, Sir," he offers in return, waiting for a few moments as he steps back a little, offering a grin. "Ready whenever you are," he offers.

Once out on the field, Isyld dips her head in a courteous gesture, the smile still in place, genuine. "I am ready when you are, Sir de Bodenham. I look forward to seeing who is the victor." Lifting her shield, she tucks it closer to herself, her axe in hand as she awaits his attack.

Success
Lysanor checked her awareness of 9, she rolled 4.

Cyndeyrn departs then from the side of the two ladies, marching heavily under the weight of his gear back out to the center of the open field where his opponent awaits. Since the other man seems very promptly ready, the Dinton knight does not seem to see purpose in delaying things, and so makes his customary salute and then gives a bang on his shield with the flat of his sword-blade, indicating he is ready to begin!

Failed.
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 19.
Critical Fail!
You check your axe at 15, you rolled 20.

It seems that fortune is favoring neither opponent this time! Idris surges forward, his arm rearing back to give more force to an overhead strike to Isyld's shoulder — perhaps to knock her down — but he doesn't manage to hit the mark. Raising his shield in anticipation for a strike, he takes a step back as he has to slip back into a defensive stance.

So pleased is Lysanor with her brother that she nearly misses that look of disappointment that has suddenly taken over Bronwen's fair features. However, this she does catch, though with Cyndeyrn in their presence now, there is no need to bring any of this up. Her deliate pale hands clasp together in a mixture of nervousness and anticipation for her brother's next challenge. "Sir Martyn has truly held his during the entirety of the tournament. I do wonder if there will be anyone who will beat him." Only once her brother is out of earshot, does the Dinton maiden go on to say, "She's a lovely young lady. Good and proper. I'm sure that you know of her." All of this is said in a warm tone, trying to offer some comfort to Bronwen to know that the lady her brother seeks is not improper in any sense.

Martyn grins at Cyndeyrn, and begins moving a little sideways, to get into the right position for a sudden strike. Trying for one based as much on speed as on strength.

Up at the ready, Isyld was all ready, her shield up, axe in hand, prepared to swing an attack when the head of her axe just.. falls to the ground. With a bemused look, she looks down and then at Idris before chuckling and glancing over to Martyn, "I think he hits harder than I imagined." Or something! Her squire runs up and brings her practice sword, toting off the axe. "Shall we try again, Sir?" Taking sword in hand, definitely trying not to laugh. "My apologies for the slow start."

Once Cyndeyrn goes, Bronwen is free to react more fully to her friend's prior information, although the intervening presence of the man in question has given time for any surprise to settle. "I suppose it is to be expected, that a man such as him would readily find a woman's favor," she will say, perhaps still sounding a little sad, before lapsing into what is her typical mode when discussing such things not involving herself: wistfullness at the very idea of such romance. "It is wonderful, I think. If the two of them… I mean, since they must clearly both be enamored of the other, is it to be official?" Obviously, such things do not always come to pass as all would prefer!

Success
Martyn checked his Sword of 15, he rolled 6.
Critical Success!
Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 15.
Cyndeyrn rolls 6d6 and gets (4 2 6 4 5 5) for a total of: (26)

The Bodenham knight gives time for Isyld to pick her new weapon, sheathing his sword until she does so. He grins at her remark regarding Martyn, nodding once before he draws one of his blades, once again. This time, he draws the one not bejewelled, likely custom-made for him as it is usual when it comes to a knight's first sword. Blacksmiths take their craft seriously, after all! "We shall, Sir," he intones, shaking his head at the apology as his footwork takes him closer to Isyld so that he might launch a faster attack rather than a more powerful one.

Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 7.
Failed.
You check your sword at 10, you rolled 17.
Idris rolls 5d6 and gets (2 5 4 2 5) for a total of: (18)
Critical Fail!
You check your dex at 14, you rolled 20.
Failed.
Idris checked his generous of 10, he rolled 15.
Failed.
Idris checked his selfish of 10, he rolled 16.

Josette continues to watch each of the challenges with curious eyes as the swords hit and miss their intended targets. A smile curls her lips as her eyes light up from the sight.

It seems the match of speed vs strength goes decidedly toward the latter element as Martyn makes his approach on Cyndeyrn. Perhaps it is just a matter of timing; surely, he is the slower, steadier, more brutish sort of fighter, and he might be outmaneuvered with good skill. But as it is, he waits until Martyn is making a darting step and swings almost perfectly to intercept it, so that the man is not just struck, but walks into the blow. The tremendous force of it shows the full of the Dinton knight's power, easily flinging his foe from his feet… and provoking a concerned reaction from the knight himself. "Sir, are you well?" Of course, he does not strike him where he lays, but he is more concerned for the wound, knowing by the feel of the impact that his blade made some headway through the other's armor.

With her new weapon in hand, a sword Isyld is not so adept at using, she prepares for the fight. Her preparedness is all in vain when she finds herself unable to defend against her opponent and he makes the strike. Her feet come out from under her and she falls to the ground to her stomach barely refraining from falling on her sword. With a groan, she turns herself over and extracts her shield arm from beneath her. "Ow.." Still, she looks up at him with a humored smile. "Sweeping me off of my feet already?" Gingerly making her way to her feet again and reaching for her weapon.

Showing some concern for her friend now, Lysanor divides her attention between Bronwen's wistfulness and her brother's facing off against Martyn. "My brother truly is a wonderful. Both strong and kind. With a strong sense of justice." As Justis a strong Dinton trait, Lysanor feels pride in making mention of this." There is a briefest of pauses when she notices her brother's strike actually downing the Baverstock knight, who has, for most of the tournament, proven himself victorious time and time again. Still, though she has known Sir Martyn since childhood, their families being neighbors, her heart is filled with great joy and elation to see her brother best him! "Oh goodness. Sir Martyn has been doing so well thus far, but with my brother's own strength, I hope that he hasn't been terribly hurt." With her eyes on Cyndeyrn's match once more, she does respond to her friend's inquiry, this time looking a touch sheepish at the response, perhaps knowing it may not be what Bronwen hoped to hear. "No, it has not been made official and negotiations would still need to be made between our families, but," And here, she bites her lip gently, "The lady in question returns my dear brother's feelings, for all that I know."

"Well, I do like a Lady with a sense of humor," Idris grins at Isyld, reaching with a hand to help her up. He steps back once she is on her feet again, the sword now held in front of him for a quick, easily executed slash once she has stood up. "It is just equally a pleasure to do so literally," he laughs, afterward, finding himself in good spirits before moving forward to attack the Chalke knight again.

One moment he's moving forward, the next Martyn is down on the ground as he takes that hit, sword dropping from his hand as he remains where he is for a few brief moments, letting out a pained sound. "That hurt…" Shaking his head as if to clear it a bit, he looks up to Cyndeyrn, blinking a few times, before he offers a bit of a weak grin. "You hit like some kind of wild animal, Sir… Well struck…" Trying to sit up now, he winces a bit. "I've… been far better," he replies, finally.

Isyld accepts the hand to get to her feet, laughter in her eyes. "Why thank you, Sir. It is only right you pick me up since you put me there." Certainly she's teasing him and she does take her sword in hand to face off with him again. "One very big point to you, and nothing to me." The playful look still there, even as she takes her sword and readies for his attack.

Bronwen may have the unfortunate luck of cheering loudly as she sees Cyndeyrn land that powerful stroke, obviously so caught up in the brave knight's success that she does not at first recognize the other's potential harm. Yet when Lysanor reacts, she blinks and likewise raises some alarm. "Oh, oh dear, it looks as though he has done -too- well, your brother. I hope that man is- well, it seems as though he rises again. Should someone attend to him? Surely, they will not keep fighting?"

Critical Success!
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 15.
Idris rolls 5d6 and gets (5 1 5 6 5) for a total of: (22)
Critical Fail!
You check your sword at 10, you rolled 20.
Failed.
You check your dex at 14, you rolled 18.

"Like a lance from horseback, I have been told," Cyndeyrn echoes the other man, not in the fashion of bragging but in fact reporting how others often describe his blows. He waits a moment then, as Martyn merely sits up and does not rise. "Surely no one will think ill if you do not wish to continue further, as it would be… foolish to risk grave injury amidst celebration. Though if you feel strong enough, of course…" He is torn, of course, neither wishing to look the bloodthirsty brute nor to insult the other man by implying he is too weak to fight.

Failed.
Martyn checked his Prudent of 10, he rolled 11.
Failed.
Martyn checked his reckless of 10, he rolled 16.

Wincing a bit more, Martyn looks around as he gets himself back to his feet. "In reality, it is not you I'm currentl fighting, Sir, but me." Leaning down to pick up his sword, although slightly slower than usual, he offers a grin. "And how would I know how I would fare in a real battle under these conditions if I did not try now?" Glancing around at the others present, then back to Cyndeyrn, getting into position to try the fighting once more.

As Martyn slowly begins to rise to his feet, Lysanor watches for signs of any critical injury; noting the man's gait and posture as he moves. Though even she knows that there are pride within these's knight's hearts and she couldn't very well throw in the towel for the Baverstock, even if they are close friends and allies. "He will be able to stand and walk, but his injuries may hinder his performance from here on. If he concedes, I will more than gladly tend to his wound." It's not as if she wasn't looking after another Baverstock as well. With one hand placed on the satchel at her waist, the one holding all of her healing supplies, she waits patiently for Martyn's response and looks both proud and yet worried for the Baverstock at the man's decision to carry on. Her lips not pursed tightly, lifting herself on her tiptoes, she waves across the way to her brother. If he sees her, he will notice that her expresion means business and to take care of his brute strength during the rest of the challenge.

Perhaps it is because Idris' strength comes into a mixture of reach and strength rather than raw speed, but the knight crashes his shield into Isyld, likely to unsettle her balance as his sword crashes down on her — despite an attempt to pull back the attack, it hits on her side a little bit too perfectly, a little bit too deep, and the sword breaks skin, draws blood, though the Bodenham's expression is one of surprise as he wounds his Chalke opponent, eyebrows furrowing in an attack that knocks her down into the ground. He spends a moment there, indecisive on what to do, before he sheathes his sword and kneels down to look over the lady knight's wounds. "Are you alright?"

Cyndeyrn does still look a little concerned. Though his opponent's words do not go unmarked, neither does his sister's look from the sidelines. Still, in the end, this is knightly business, which may trump the more ladylike concern. "This is true enough," he will agree. "I salute your resolve then." With this spoken, he steps a bit further back to give the other man room and for them both to take up their stances without being immediately upon one another. His posture begins more defensively, though it cannot be said if this is a natural shift or out of concern for doing further harm.

Martyn offers another brief grin, moving into position to wait for the right moment to strike now. A bit more careful than that earlier attack.

Success
Cyndeyrn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 11.

Once more Isyld takes a hit and her feet are knocked out from underneath her and she finds herself once more on the ground but.. hurt. There's no playful words from her this time, but she does look up at him with an attempt at a smile. "You pack quite a hit," she says softly, lips slanted in a half smile. "I will be fine, thank you. Just give me a moment.."

Bronwen will turn to Lysanor with concern in her wide eyes as the men decide to continue their match. "Oh, this seems foolishness to me, Lys. I know that when they must fight for real, it will be under such circumstances… but it is still such a great risk. If one were to spill real blood by accident here, what purpose would it serve? Let us pray for them both, for their safety!" When all else fails: Jesus!

Success
Martyn checked his sword of 15, he rolled 8.
Cyndeyrn rolls 6d6 and gets (6 2 2 5 4 2) for a total of: (21)

Elrick had stepped aside earlier because one of the straps to his armor came loose, so he had to take a bit of time to make sure that his protective gear is snuggly secured. Once that was done, the Laverstock Knight was watching silently from the side at the two pairs of challengers battling each other. It was certainly a bit rougher this time around as some rather brutal hits were delivered. The pair he currently watches is Isyld and Idris, as the former has been taken down twice, seeing how that challenge will play out.

Success
Martyn checked his dex of 12, he rolled 6.

It seems both men will be cautious now, perhaps for good reason, and this at least reins in any telling blows, reducing the match to a more tactical affair of probing thrusts and quick parries. And while brute strength may be one of Cyndeyrn's fortes, his ability does not disappear in more measured combat. Indeed, with his long reach, he might be said to have some advantage in such circumstances too, at least when his opponent forgoes his own speed to rush past it. Thus the fight ends without great spectacle. A few such feints and testing attacks are made, and then, at an opportune moment, Cyndeyrn beats his opponent's blade a little harder on the block and then counter-attacks, using his long arm to make sure Martyn cannot step clear. Still, it is probably a relief to most if not all involved that the final stroke is merely a light tap that scores a point but no real harm. Cyndeyrn steps back immediately, and bobs his head. "Bravely fought till the end. Now please sir, do allow my sister to see to you. She is a skillful healer, and familiar enough with aiding your family. I am sure we would all feel saddened if the wound did fester or worsen for lack of proper care."

When Bronwen calls for prayer, Lysanor does just that. However, she has trust in her brother to not harm Martyn further for unlike other less chivalrous knights whom shall not be named here, Cyndeyrn was a strong man with a good heart! Thus, in the end, rather than downing the Baverstock lord as he had done just previously, the final hit is given, much to the relief of the auburn-haired one. With a heavy sight of relief escaping her lips now, she turns to Bronwen and smiles, "It seems our prayers have been answered." She is too distracted to notice the other fight, the one which Bronwen's own brother had taken part of, but she begins to saunter forward and meet with both Cyndeyrn and Martyn. "You had me worried there for a moment." She calls out to both, "But you did fight very well. The both of you." It is only now that she catches sight of the Idris vs. Isyld challenge, sensing that things are over there as well.

Still cautious, Martyn's a bit slower than before. Wincing every now and then, he manages to deal with those feints and testing attacks, but he's unable to defend himself against that final strike. Letting out a relieved breath as it's not a hard strike, he lowers his weapon, nodding. "Well fought, Sir. I will be looking forward to the next time we face each other." Nodding again at that last part. "That is wise," he offers, quietly. Pausing as he hears Lysanor's words, he offers her a quiet nod and a smile now. "Thank you, my lady."

"Very well," Idris replies to Isyld, though he holds a hand out as he waits for her to recover. Likely meaning to help her up as he feels slightly guilty for it. He stands up once she has accepted his help or waved it off, then flashes her a grin. "I do hit like a mule, though that was not my intent, truly. I should save that much force for the Saxons. My apologies."

Bronwen breathes out a sigh of great relief when the whole thing with Cyndeyrn and Martyn ends without further bloodshed. A lady like her is somewhat squeamish of such things, and further, clearly horrified by the actual risk of real harm to the brave men involved. "I am just glad they are both alright." A longer look is given Cyndeyrn, slightly wistful, but then it is all to the practical matter of patching up the wounded. "Do you need any aid, Lys? I am not so skillful as you are, but mayhaps I can assist."

Isyld does take his hand finally and gets to her feet, favoring her side as she presses her hand against it. Her squire hurries over and collects the shield and sword as Isyld draws her hand away and finds blood on her fingers. "I think you won," she says with a pained expression, dropping her hand from his once she is steady on her feet. "Thank you for the spar, Sir Bodenham, you are indeed the better." She gives him another attempt at a smile. "I think I am finished for the day."

Idris smiles back at Isyld, noting, "My name is Sir Idris de Bodenham. I never did catch your name, Sir." And as he is up on his feet now, he nods respectfully. "I look forward to fighting with you at another opportunity, or maybe beside you against some Saxon savages." His smile widens at that.

"Come, let us get you seated and rested." Lysanor intones gently to the Baverstock as their small group approaches the area where the knight's tents are set. She then turns and nods to Bronwen, "I wil need some damp cloths to start." Those eyes then focus on the bloodied section of Martyn's chainmaile once more. She has tended to many a wound in her time, so can hardly be squeamish about it.

"Isyld de Chalke, Sir Idris. Thank you for the challenge." Flashing him another smile, this one slightly less pained, she glances around for Elrick to seek him out and speak with him. "I need to speak with my would be opponent, please excuse me for the moment. I wish you luck in the remainder of the challenges, Sir."

When Isyld excuses herself from her previous opponent, Elrick watches her approaching and inclines his head to the the female knight, "Sir Isyld, well fought. It was unfortunate that your preferred weapon broke during the first exchange, otherwise the duel may have ended differently." There is a pause before the Laverstock Knight adds, "I trust you were not injured in that bout?"

Perhaps owing to his -overly- great success in the last bout, Cyndeyrn seems ill-inclined toward further violence on this day. And with the important business now placed in his sister's hands, he will soon take after her, pausing just so that his squire can relieve him of his helm and arms, but not undressing fully that he might keep pace.

The tourney field beckons to a light-hearted figure crowned in thrift and the first wave of milkweed and meadowsweet from the fields, at least those not ravaged and plucked by every maid from eight to six and twenty on behalf of Arthur and Guenevere. Where does Eirian de Burcombe find those flowers? Listen in the right quarters and the answer is she has an alliance with Blodeuwedd or her compact with her fae relations or spends all night riding about on an eldritch steed to collect her favourite blooms. Sweet rosewater lifts off her skin as she approaches the spectators' stands, hardly concerned about the drying grass clinging to her feet and the hem of her long bliaut. No armour adorns her here; she has, however, thought to bring a basket of sweet rolls and other treats. Perhaps owing to forethought, others will actually be fed if they watch the battle.

As the smell of sweat and bodily fluids dies down from the last battle, Dillion steps onto the field. In this space for the gods of battle, he is dressed in standard civilian mufti, though he bears a one-handed sword on his hip and walks like a knight. Specifically, he walks like he's keeping his back straight, trying not to move his shoulders too much, and trying to avoid irritating a wound dealt to his breastbone in the jousts. He walks like a statue. It's not a good look.

Climbing up into the spectator stands, Dillion glances down at the muddy field and bites his lower lip slightly, gazing on the friendly

CHALLENGES! This is what Aluksander came here for. Having yet to be called to the joust, he has time to partake in some of the personal challenges first. Especially given his success in Sarum, he is eager to get to it, marching in from the tent city in full armor. Aluksander hasn't been assigned a squire yet, so there isn't anyone to carry his helm or shield but him. But, this doesn't seem to bother him one bit as he makes his way to the line of awaiting challengers, diligently awaiting his turn at combat.

"The pleasure was mine, Sir Isyld," Idris smiles back to the knight, nodding once when she excuses herself to speak to Elrick. "Of course. And for you as well. Should you need any assistance, let me know." Then he spots the knight of Pitton whose offspring he may or may not have said are relegated to Hell and he intones, loudly, "You, over there, Sir. I challenge you to a fight!"
Success
Aluksander checked his recognize of 8, he rolled 3.

Challenges would bring Catryn to the tournament field. Hopefully something to make up for her previous failures the previous day. One win, one loss was her current record. Arriving with her cousin, she smiles at her, though her squire Anais is on her other side. The knight is dressed for combat. The squire carries the tools for the trade. With a smile to her cousin, she looks the field over. "Who should I challenge this day?"

Bronwen looks fretful for a moment, hearing her brother calling out bold challenges but also looking after Lysanor as she heads off with the injured man. And so, before rushing off, she does go toward her brother, risking actually stepping out onto the dirty, manly, space of the main field rather than just the sidelines. She will look most out of place amidst the armored knights, in her dress. "Brother, I told Lysanor I would help her… but my thoughts will be with you. And if you have need of me, do, um, shout! Or send yours quire I suppose." That would be more logical. "I won't be far."

Turning as he is called out, Aluksander's visage darkens heavily when he sees the large knight issuing the challenge. Absently, he reaches up and strokes the red-and-black ribbon that has his hair tied back in a long pony tail as he steps forward, thoughts on the woman who has sent him with her favor. "I accept, sir," he says flatly as he lifts his helm and secures it on his head. He then steps forward, holding his sword vertically in front of his face, announcing himself, "Sir Aluksander Thane de Pitton."

"It is alright, Bronwen," Idris turns to his sister, kissing the strawberry-haired maiden's forehead tenderly, even hugging her briefly. "And I will send my squire should I have need of you. Stay out of trouble, yes? I trust the good Lady Lysanor will not put you in any troublesome predicament but once I am done here I will find you so we can eat together." Letting go of her afterwards, he turns to behold Aluksander, his sword pointed at the Pitton knight. "Sir Idris de Bodenham," he announces himself, in turn, as he wanders further into the field to carry this fight on.

Bronwen is thus released from her brother's side, and rushes off to attend the wounded man.

As challenges are issued, Dillion walks around the front of the spectator stand. The idea that people behind him might want to see in front does not apparently occur to him, for he stands and walks along the rail as though he had a right to it. As challenges are issued he looks out on the field with a fire in his eyes. Perhaps checking for familiar heraldry. Perhaps looking more generally, in his youth and inexperienced absorbed by the challenges of his elders.

Catryn is here for the challenges and she waits on the sidelines, watching as Idris claims someone for one for himself. She looks to her squire, "Anais, I think this will be a good match. He was a tie for the wins at the last challenges in Sarum."

Once introductions are finished, Aluksander doesn't wait long. As soon as Idris appears to be ready, Aluksander comes in, swinging his sword. LETS GIT IT ON!

Success
Aluksander checked his sword of 15, he rolled 5.
Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 7.
Idris rolls 5d6 and gets (4 5 2 1 5) for a total of: (17)
Success
Aluksander checked his dex of 10, he rolled 3.

Arian de Laverstock has finally arrived at the tournament grounds. She is dressed in her so-called heirloom armor — which is really just a hand-me-down set of chainmail that one of her brothers had worn in their squire years. But doning heirlooms and hand-be-downs is the Laverstock way. How else does a family of knights keep themselves armored and armed. She steps into the gathering with her helmet tucked under her arm and her hair woven back with a coarse bit of linen so that it stays off her neck and out of her eyes. She approaches where challenges are being made, scanning those mulling around.

In the audience, is Miruan. She has a black cat on her shoulders. They both stare. She doesn't seem to blink often, and is watching, curiously to see the challenges being made and undergone.

Right now, the Bodenham knight is concentrated on winning the fight. There is nothing here that remotely resembles an honor fight (since those two were already settled) nor wanting to hurt the other. His counterattack, after he parries Aluksander's attack, is a simple swing to the man's side. It hits, but certainly not enough to get the man stumbling back or forward.

Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 8.
Success
Aluksander checked his sword of 15, he rolled 9.
Aluksander rolls 4d6 and gets (3 2 3 2) for a total of: (10)

His initial foray turned aside, Aluksander scowls as he's scored against in the first place. He glares at his shield, unsued to holding it, and shakes his head, focusing back in on the fight. When the Bodenham comes for him, he's ready this time, deflecting the blow and this time scoring, tying things up. Not one to sit back and wait, he presses the attack, looking to gain the advantage as he attacks once more.

Success
Aluksander checked his sword of 15, he rolled 6.
Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 11.
Idris rolls 5d6 and gets (5 5 6 1 2) for a total of: (19)
Failed.
Aluksander checked his dex of 10, he rolled 16.

"Good blow," Idris remarks after Aluksander manages to hit him, though it is not strong enough to knock him off his feet. He brings his sword overhead, then, shield projected forward until he pulls it back at the very last minute as he slashes at the man's shoulder, stepping back once.

Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 6.
Success
Aluksander checked his sword of 15, he rolled 2.
Idris rolls 5d6 and gets (6 3 5 6 3) for a total of: (23)
Failed.
Aluksander checked his dex of 10, he rolled 12.

Kamron is in his armor, of course, with his gangly squire following behind carrying his bucket helm. The knight's usual wooden practice axe is… well… it broke. So he had to fix something up while he had another one made (at much higher expense than he would have liked). His regular axe has been bound with a block of wood to protect anyone from the actual blade. It's clumsy and awkward, but it's not likely to do more than bruise anyone. Stepping up alongside the Laverstock, he notes, "You need a squire, Sir Arian."

Catryn looks towards the challenges, but the passing Laverstock is given a respectful nod. "Sir, would you be available for a challenge?" There's a glance once more towards the current fight, "There is enough room on the field for another set if you like?"

Aluksander's attack is easily deflected again, and he falters, dropping his shield a little too low. This allows Idris the opportunity to smash into his shoulder, stumbling him backwards. And, unused to the extra weight of the shield on his arm, Aluksander falls. Angry, now, Aluksander is quick to scramble back to his feet, barely taking time to adjust his armor. "Good blow," he mutters, at least attempting to be polite, though his blood is boiling now. Which makes it so his next attack is more wild than it ought to be.

Failed.
Dillion checked his Recognize of 7, he rolled 12.
Failed.
Idris checked his recognize of 3, he rolled 17.

"Maybe I should have asked Their Majesties for one," Arian says dryly to the Dinton, but she is all grins all the same. "I hear that it is in the works. You're concern is quite endearing." She looks as if she is about to relax into an observer until Catryn speaks her way, and she turns to the taller Burcombe. She glances at the field, as if trying to gauge something, but then she grins and nods. "Of course, Sir Catryn. I would be honored." She rests her hand on the pommel of her practice blade — quite a sad comparison to the blade she was gifted by the King and Queen, but she has no plans to use that weapon here.

Amid the flashing steel and iron on the field, it's hard to make out detail, and Dillion watches Aluksander and Idris dance in interest. When the latter buries the forward with that powerful shove, the Bishopstone knight lifts both eyesbrows in interest. "Very good," he murmurs, impressed, to the rest of the stand. Full marks to you, anonymous knight!

When the Knight of Pitton comes at him with that much ferocity, Sir Idris goes on the defense, bringing his shield to deflect the man's blow, while a simple swipe under the now stuck sword should suffice to strike the man down, especially as it hits the hip in a sweeping attack.

Miruan is watching, and she seems to be given about a foot of space to each size. She's just staring intently, watching. Perhaps analytically. There's a polite nod, lowering her head to those in passing. At least they haven't implemented nude challenges to prevent mystery knights. For her part, she and her cat are an appreciative audience.

Elrick was already towards the side of the main competition area watching the knights that have been challenging each other, his own helm tucked under his arm. He is in the same, unassuming chainmail armor with the Laverstock surcoat underneath. As more knights arrive on the field, his gaze looks over the new gathering and sees one who he recognizes immediately. Before approaching though, Elrick sees that Adrian is already being intercepted by a challenge and another knight with Dinton colors. So for now, the older brother holds his ground, his gaze moving back to the duel at hand.

Success
Aluksander checked his vengeful of 10, he rolled 3.

And strike him down it does, as Aluksander's over-reaching rush leaves him open and unbalanced. Idris scores the final point easily as Aluksander winds up on his knees. He bows his head for a moment, growling, and then pounds the ground with his fist, yanking his hand out of the shield. He kicks it, once, sending it sliding a short ways away as he glowers at it, panting. It takes him a couple of seconds to regain his cool, but he does, shaking his head. He then removes his helmet and turns to Idris, bowing at the waist. "My apologies, that was a poor display. Forgive me. GOod win," he says before straightening up.

Kamron flashes a bright smile at Arian, "My concern is for every noble Lady, be she clothed in sammite or in mail." And then Catryn approaches, and Kamron carefully bows his head to the Burcombe, "Sir Catryn." The approach of the additional Laverstock causes Kamron to nod again, and then heft up the blocked-up axe at his side, "What do you say, Sir Laverstock the taller?" Elrick, apparently, "Would you like to take to the field as soon as there is enough space?"

"There is nothing to forgive, Sir. You fought well," Idris nods once to Aluksander, cool and collected after the win, it appears. "And I would like to retract my words spoken on the other day. It is not my business nor does my opinion matter in how you conduct your dealings in regards to your family." He hasn't forgotten it, apparently. He looks to Catryn, after that. "Sir Catryn de Burcombe. Shall we?"

There's a nod offered to the Laverstock and Catryn flicks her eyes to her squire. "Annie, my things." Which has the squire assisting with her shield and handing over the practice sword she uses for just such an occasion." She nods to the nearby Kamron, "Sir," she greets, a measure of respect in her eyes after their last meetup on the field. The rivalry is still there though, so it's a brief look. "Meet you on the field," she says to Arian and heads out there.

"There is nothing to forgive, Sir. You fought well," Idris nods once to Aluksander, cool and collected after the win, it appears. "And I would like to retract my words spoken on the other day. It is not my business nor does my opinion matter in how you conduct your dealings in regards to your family." He hasn't forgotten it, apparently. Turning to regard the man applauding, he nods once to the knight, then gestures to the field with his sword.

Sir Rowan de Wylye enters the clearing, drawn to the sound of blades clashing and painful grunts. The duels were being had, but the particular opponent he was searching for wasn't to be found today. His brows knit together in mild displeasure, but he lingers to watch, partly in hope that Tomas would indeed show up. Eventually.

The tournament is still well under way and Sir Bran de Bodenham eventually makes an appearance. He looks ready for some one-on-one challenges, sword at his side, a certain intensity to his gaze as he moves toward where he sees others battling it out in relatively friendly combat. He comes to a stop a few yards away from the nearest competitors or soon-to-be competitors - Idris and the knight he's challenged. The tall knight seems content to watch his sibling get into it before he starts looking for trouble of his own.

Blinking, Aluksander looks at Idris for a second. He then taps his sword to his forehead in a salute. "I appreciate your apology, sir," he says. He then moves over to reclaim his shield, picking it up and sliding it over his shoulder and onto his back. He pulls his helmet off, shaking his hair out and running a gloved hand through the sweat-matted locks. He sighs, moving towards the water trough so that he can get a drink before looking to the next challenge.

Dillion applauds the worthy victor as he gives up the field. He shrugs his shoulders, then cringes a bit at the stitch in his chest. "A marvelous fight," he says, approvingly. "Guts. A pity about the ltitle tantrum at the end." He looks back at Idris with unrecognizing respect, then turns around to look at Miruan. Or, more specifically, turns around to look at Miruan's cat. Perhaps he simply felt he needed an audience. "A victory gesture more fit of a Bodenham than a gentleman," he says, oblivious, but rather louder than necessary.

Arian nods her head respectfully to Catryn as she heads off to prepare, and then she glances to Kamron. "Quite a stark opposite to her brother, don't you think? Stern, serious… where as Sir Caerwyn is quite… not." She flashes a grin, but then her gaze falls to Elrick. "Elrick! Look at you… coming out, braving the field… and how unfortunate that I found a challenger already…" She winks to her brother slyly before she steps forward, heading to the field to meet her challenger and leaving the two men — a brother and a dear friend — behind.

Success
Idris checked his reckless of 16, he rolled 7.

Did someone just say that temper tantrums are a Bodenham feature? Well, Idris isn't having any of this. He stares at the man who said such words, pointing the blade towards the man. "Either you will take that back, Sir, or you will join me on the field now, lest you're a coward who only says such things when you think nobody is listening. So what will be it?"

Success
Dillion checked his valorous of 15, he rolled 13.

When the Dinton knight approaches, Elrick nods his head in greeting to the smaller knight, "I would be amendable to accept your challenge, Sir, I have already been bested by another of knight of your House. You are a formidable lot. Shall we?" He says with a slight curl of his lips as if eager to test his skills against a second Dinton knight. Heading towards the open ground, the taller Laverstock Knight slips on his helm and secures it before drawing his plain blade, saluting Kamron to show that he is ready.

Once out on the field, Catryn takes a few practice swings, her squire off the field observing for now as she awaits. When Arian approaches, she tips her head forward once more. "Thank you for accepting my challenge, Sir de Laverstock. The first to three?" Otherwise it would go too fast, one way or the other.

Miruan, one of the more reclusive and eccentric nobles about, is standing and watching with a black cat riding on her shoulders or resting on her head. She doesn't blink much, staring intently. there's a faint smile as people come and go.

Dillion honestly did not expect his words to be overheard by somebody who might take an interest in them. But hearing words of challenge addressed to him, and seeing a sword pointed at his breast, snaps him out of his idle colour commentary. He is dressed for the market, not for the field, but he turns around and faces Idris… not quite coolly. Blood fills his face until he goes almost beet red. But nor does the young man back down, either.

"Sir," Dillion declares to Idris, very, -very- slowly, with deliberation, "you find me unprepared, and I find you wearied from struggle. But if, in the time it takes my squire to return with my armour, you feel yourself prepared, then I shall uphold the truth of my words with my arm."

"First to three," Arian agrees. Her sword is also out, and she keeps bouncing the grip in her hands, letting the weapon rotate with each bounce. Then she finds the favored hold, and offers a nod to the woman. "And truthfully, I am thankful you offered such a challenge." She then finds her stance, ball of her foot rotating in the dirt and grass. Her shield comes up, and she draws up the sword to show she is prepared.

Bran is slower to respond to the slight than Idris is and also further away from Dillion and Idris seems to have things well under control. He does, however, step forward and look about for a challenger, "Who will challenge me?" he calls out in a solid voice, one hand moving to rest upon the pommel of his sword in case it weren't clear that he's ready to get some personal challenges under his belt. He keeps an eye on Idris and Dillion, or at least keeps aware of what's going on. He seems just about to say something in response, but instead holds his tongue in favor of once again allowing Idris to respond and defend the family's honor.

Kamron chuckles softly at Elrick's response, offering a crooked smile, "My cousin, most like. He hits a great deal harder than I do, don't worry." Cyndeyrn is also more than a head taller than Kamron. Turning to his squire, he ducks his head to allow the helmet to be placed over his head, then steps out into the cleared space behind the two lady knights. He hefts his blocked-up axe, clattering the head to his shield, then nods, "First to three? I'm Sir Kamron Dinton, by the way. Which Laverstock might I have the honor of facing?"

"Go fetch your armor, blackguard. You besmirch my family's name and yet are unprepared to fight for your words?" Idris calls out, clearly angered at the insult to the honor of his family. "Only a /Bishopstone/ would be so disrespectful of the House most worthy of Sir Oswallt's good graces, of unquestionable loyalty and service." When Bran issues the challenge, he tells his brother, "If this man does not come back with his armor and shield, I will fight you, brother," the tone he addresses the eldest of the Bodenham lot is rather respectful, at that.

"First to three." Elrick says in agreement as it was the same with Kamron's cousin, doing a couple of test swings with his blade while he introduces himself, "Sir Elrick, brother to Sir Adrian. Ready when you are, Sir Kamron." There is a glance to the side by the Laverstock Knight, away from his opponent when he hears some rather sharp words being called out, "Looks like some of these challenges may be more personal than others, eh?" With a nod and a bang of sword to shield, Elrick begins advancing on Kamron.

Oh ho ho ho. One can almost HEAR the ominous chortle and organ music behind Miruan. Thankfully, she doesn't fart bats as far as anyone knows. The cat merps, and she nods. "It seems some drama is brewing…" She considers, staring green eyes turning to the challenges.

"And I am honored you would accept." Lifting her shield she holds it against herself, blocking if able while lifting her sword arm and taking more a position of aggressor. She shifts her feet, balancing herself as she faces the Laverstock, "At your ready, Sir." Preparing herself, and if Arian gives the signal, she goes immediately on the attack.

Success
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 3.

Dillion is young, and this is surely his first such rodeo, but maybe that helps encourage the valour, or arrogance disguised as valour, or whatever lets him face Idris's remarks with such determination. "You dare, knave? You dare invoke noble Sir Oswallt in defense of your house and its roaming eye? Chad!" The last word is a loud shout towards Dillion's squire, who appears at his elbow in an instant, looking at the knight with an air of, well, irritation and impatience. "Fetch my arms and armour," he declares, and said squire is away before Dillion has finished saying it.

Then Dillion stalks out of the stand, onto the grass, unbuckling his belt, grabbing his sword by the hilt as it comes off, and wincing at the wound to his breastbone. Even apart from the unavoidable delay in getting him armed, at least he has a recent tournament injury of his own.

Success
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 7.
Arian rolls 4d6 and gets (5 2 5 2) for a total of: (14)
Success
Idris checked his merciful of 13, he rolled 3.
Failed.
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 19.
Failed.
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 16.

"You and yours are no better than the treacherous fiends that slew King Constantin!" Possibly dangerous words for Idris to say in the middle of Carlion, where Silchester Knights might prowl, but at least he didn't go to outright say 'Silchester'. He does look as Dillion appears wounded, tilting his head to the side. "You're… wounded. Do you still desire to fight at this moment or would you rather wait until you are healed?"

Failed.
Dillion checked his proud of 7, he rolled 18.
Success
Catryn checked her dex of 17, she rolled 14.

Dillion's squire is irritable and skeptical of his master, but he is also quick and the knight's arms must have been nearby. The two begin dressing for the challenge at once, but the preparations take place in the open, the better for Dillion to respond to Idris. "I will prove our worth to you in the name of God!" he almost spits, hardly the stuff of a great knight of chivalry.

But, while the squire buckles the iron rings over Dillion's torso, he catches Idris's last comment, and gives the other knight a look that isn't actually full of condescension or scorn. "It is a pain, hardly a wound, from the joust. I daresay you sustained as bad mere moments ago," he says. Says, mind you, doesn't sneer. "I shall derive little disadvantage and no excuse from it."

Kamron is apparently distracted by the argument — and perhaps more than a spar — brewing just off to the side. He advances on the Laverstock man, shield up and ready to defend. As he approaches, he circles Elrick, then moves forward, shield first, trying to slam the man off his balance, then sweeping his axe up and over, trying to hammer the wood-headed axe into the other knight's shoulder. He is, of course, totally distracted by the calling for armor and snapping, and his blow lacks weight and accuracy.

No challenge is immediately forthcoming, so Bran wanders calmly over toward Idris. He continues to maintain his stoic silence, providing more silent moral support than entering the verbal fray himself. It would be clear to someone who knows him, however, that he's every bit as annoyed and offended as his brother. A tightness in his jaw, his eyes just slightly narrowed, the way in which he holds himself in almost unnoticeable readiness. Just in case.

"Very well," Idris replies, accepting the man's willingness to fight despite his wounds. That, of course, earns a nod from the Bodenham, even as he heads further afield to avoid the masses of duelling people around them. "Then come here, Bishopstone, and I will make you swallow your words as though they were your own broken teeth," he threatens, still a rather wrathful knight, but especially more so when his Manor is invoked in such a denigrating fashion by their rivals. "Don't keep me waiting, though, I am here to challenge worthy knights so that my score at the end of the day is as high as I can get it to."

Arian's shield is held in close to her body. When Catryn comes in to strike, Arian's shield is immediately up at the ready to take the clatter so that her sword can swoop around to strike bodily at the taller Lady Knight. Despite the confidence behind the hit, the Laverstock quickly backs up to give the fellow woman room and so that they can resume their slow and methodical engagement. "I always heard you were quite nimble, Sir Catryn," Arian says with a smile in her words.

As shown in the previous battle with Cyndeyrnn, Elrick has shown that he is more than willing go shield with shield as he meets Karmon's shield bash head on with his own, a loud clatter as both shields slam together. As the axe comes down from above, the Laverstock Knight brings his own blade up to parry the weapon. With the attack parried, Elrick then brings his blade down but the current position he is in, it is an awkward slash which proves to cut through nothing but air.
Gritting his teeth, Elrick pushes hard once more with his shield against Kamrons, as if to clear a little space. As he does so, he takes a half step back and then swipes his blade horizontally at the Dinton Knight, hoping to catch the other unawares with a quick slashing blow.

Failed.
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 17.
Failed.
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 19.
Success
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 6.

With the counter, Catryn feels the hit and is too late to do anything to stop it. Stepping back, she manages to keep her feet beneath herself and her shield is slipped into place as she watches her opponent. "First point to you." A nod given, "I try to be, sometimes it fails me." Her blade at the ready, she doesn't wait and as Arian makes the attack, she moves to defend and counter. If possible.

Success
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 13.

Between them, Dillion and his squire get the armour on, then the vest above it with the colours of Bishopstone. The squire fastens on his belt, and the one-handed sword on his hip, then hands Dillion his shield, the arms of his manor differenced with a multi-pointed star to distinguish him from his elder brothers. Every inch the warrior, young though he is, and addressing Idris with - well, not -respect-, but he was humble enough to notice the chivalry of the Bodenham's earlier offer and it has changed him ever-so-slightly.

"Let us find a patch of grass," Dillion says to Idris, talking to the side while his squire backs off, rolling his eyes, shaking his head. Giving a quick look to the stranger Bran, standing beside his challenger, Dillion pauses, and adds, "Would that one of my brothers were here, sir, then we could settle a great deal in one day."

Catryn rolls 4d6 and gets (3 6 3 3) for a total of: (15)
Success
Arian checked her dex of 15, she rolled 8.

Kamron lets his axe-haft shift in his hand as Elrick parries the blow, the wood-bound head knocked off-line and away from the other knight's body. He hops back with the shove against his shield, clearing the space neatly and easily so that he can shift his shield out to counter the slash toward his side. Shaking his head inside his helmet, he brings his fist up to thump into his chest, refocusing himself on the matter at hand.

Failed.
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 18.

"This should go quick enough, brother," Idris tells Bran, the kinship evident in the way he addresses the eldest of the Bodenham bunch. "After that, we should drink. For better or for worse, I did promise Bronwen that I would find her for drinks. And we might talk about today as well." He does the sign of the cross quickly, uttering some words in Latin, before he nods once to Dillon as he approaches, heading to a patch of grass where, indeed, it might be suitable to fight this particular dispute. "Would that all your brothers would fight my brothers, and you might know the might of Bodenham in the same way the enemies of Salisbury do."

Critical Fail!
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 20.

"Were that my younger brother could learn some manners." Comes a soft, almost placid baritone from some distance behind Dillion. And then, stepping through the crowd comes an average-sized knight in worn grey chain mail. A rounded helm complete with face guard is tucked beneath his right arm. He wears no tabard, and his shield is currently stowed on his back, but the family resemblance is uncanny. They share the same dirty blond hair and lean physique, though the newcomer's eyes are a much darker blue, full of quiet peace that is sadly lacking in his younger sibling.
"Sir knights." Bartimaeus greets the others politely, bowing his head as the sounds of clashing armor echo around them. "I am Bartimaeus de Bishopstone. Would you terribly mind if I stepped in to aid my brother?"

Elrick's first slash is blocked rather expertly by Kamron, which the Laverstock grudgingly acknowledges. However, when he strikes out again, with greater force, the grudging acknowledgement turns into respect as Elrick's blade slams into Kamron's shield, the shock causing his grip on the sword to loosen. Loosen enough that it slips out of his hand, falling backwards to the ground. Bringing his own shield up quickly to defend himself, Elrick does a half roll back to try to recover his blade before Kamron can press the advantage.

Arian's feet move in an almost dance-like pattern across the dirt and grass, trying to stay light and nimble on her feet despite the weight of armor. She goes for a similar strike, aiming toward the woman's midsection, but there is a good chance that a repeated move is not going to gain her much. She almost sees the flaw the moment her strike is delivered. She tightens her jaw, holding back the surprised gasp. "And a point to you, Sir Catryn. Well struck."

"Your brother has besmirched the honor of my house and, when offered an opportunity to withdraw both his insult and his person from the fight, refused. Despite his previous injuries. He does not need your aid, Sir Bartimaeus, but I need to enter a contest for this tourney so divert your attention to me and let our brothers handle themselves." Bran steps forward to speak once Bartimaeus does the same, sidestepping out of Idris' way and moving slightly in the direction of the other Bishopstone. The Bodenham doesn't seem particularly angry, at least outwardly, but he does seem eager to notch some fights. "I am Sir Bran de Bodenham, eldest son of Sir Oswallt."

"Thank you," Catryn considers her opponent after making the score, a more calculating look on her features as she watches the footwork of the Laverstock. It seems to be an evenly matched contest, both scoring one each so far. Blade at the ready, she feints one way before trying to deliver another strike for the advantage point.

Critical Success!
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 15.

The Dinton knight slips to his left again as Elrick continues to assault him, Kamron tapping shields with the other man and then swinging his shield out toward the larger man's weapon hand. His axe strikes Elrick's shield, and then the man's sword is on the ground. Kamron immediately steps back, lowering his axe and waiting for the Laverstock to regain his weapon, "On your ready, Sir Elrick."

Failed.
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 17.
Catryn rolls 4d6 and gets (3 4 4 1) for a total of: (12)
Success
Arian checked her dex of 15, she rolled 14.

When Elrick sees that his Dinton opponent is not pressing the advantage and is actually giving him time to recover, he picks up his blade and rises to his regular stance. Inclining his head to Kamron, the Laverstock knight adds, "Thank you Sir Kamron, I appreciate the honor you have shown me." With another test swing in at the air, Elrick nods his head, "Continue." And once again he advances, determination to win not shattered.

Failed.
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 17.
Success
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 14.
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (2 4 6 4) for a total of: (16)

Dillion takes a half-step behind him and his eyes open wide as Bartimateus arrives. He gives a quick nod of respect to his elder brother, and then a quick look of irritation at Bran. "Brother," Dillion says to Bartimaeus, "I have never feigned wisdom," little grin, "but even honesty seems an offense to some. Your support against our 'loose third' would make more plain the value of Bishopstone in the eyes of the Lord."

Having given his greetings, Dillion nods at Idris, solemnly, taking a few more steps, giving him space without actually moving away. "Let us begin, sir," he says, poising his shield on his left arm, holding his sword in his right.

The feint does its purpose. Arian is expecting a strike from one angle and levels her shield in that response, but then she is delivered a far more jarring blow that sends her reeling. Her footing scuffs the dirt and grass, and she lands bodily on the ground. It feels as though Catryn's blade was made of fire the way her side flares in pain, and she lands awkwardly. Her lungs have tightened, making her chest contract and her next inhale is a great wheeze. "Second to you," she manages hoarsely.

Kamron nods his great helm a little ponderously to Elrick, "Of course, Sir Elrick. We face fellow knights, not Saxons or Picts." There's a pause, and a chuckle echoes out of the metal bucket, "Or even Cornishmen." The (much) smaller knight advances to meet his foe without hesitation, looking to close quickly to counter the other man's reach benefit. As he approaches the range of Elrick's weapon, he takes a sliding step to his right, the motion drawing him low and his shield high as his axe loops down and in, looking to sneak around the outside of the Laverstock's shield and strike ribs or hip.

"As you desire," Idris tells Dillion, holding the sword low as Dillion holds his high, though the shield is still held in front of him, less of a protective device and more of a weapon, as the Bodenham knight wields it. Perhaps his training was inspired by his father's experience with the Saxons or the Franks and some reminiscence of Roman efficiency to his steps might also betray the rest of the influences behind his knightly upbringing. Nevertheless, he rushes forward, all the better to strike the Bishopstone at the midriff with his sword.

Failed.
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 16.
Failed.
Dillion checked his swird of , he rolled 13.
Success
Dillion checked his sword of 13, he rolled 9.
Dillion rolls 4d6 and gets (6 1 2 6) for a total of: (15)

The smile that splits Bartimaeus's scarred lips is regretful, tone solemn as he steps forward to face Sir Bran. Lifting one gauntleted hand to comb through his short beard he considers the other man, then slants his eyes aside to indicate Idris.
"Very well Sir Bran. I accept your challenge. But for the sake of our kin, perhaps we can establish some rules? Let us agree to fight to first of five touches, with a fall to count as two. let us fight like gentlemen, and restrain our bloodlust. I intend to enter in the grand melee, and would prefer to save my blood for that event. Is this agreeable?" The Bishopstone's tone is placid, bearded face serene. he makes no move to respond to his brother's exuberance, though his brows do twitch slightly at Bran as their siblings commence to fighting.

Critical Success!
Idris checked his dex of 8, he rolled 8.

Catryn debates only a moment before her sword is placed against her body in her shield hand and she offers her sword hand to the Laverstock in silence. There are no apologies offered, assuming it would not be welcomed to a knight as she herself would not prefer one. "Two and one," she offers, "Still can go either way."

Success
Dillion checked his merciful of 10, he rolled 5.

The smaller knight appears to be harder to hit for Elrick, even against the larger Dinton cousin, he had already landed a blow. Once more, the Laverstock's blade does not find its intended target as it glances off of Kamron's shield. He then feels the bluntd axe impact the side of his body, enough to know that it registers as a strike but not enough to cause him to stumble. Slamming his shield forward against the Dinton's, Elrick takes a step back to separate as he growls out with respect, "Well struck, Sir Kamron!" But after the quick compliment is offered, Elrick steps forward again, looking more than ready to even up the score.

Failed.
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 18.
Failed.
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 17.
Failed.
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 18.

At his age Dillion can't have many tricks, but he pulls one out at once. His sword is almost eye-level and he lopes forward to meet Idris in the middle, shield slightly down and to the side, inviting a strike to his mid-section. But his path is the more direct, his thrust in a straight line to a point on Idris's chest next to his swordarm, the conventional, tournament-style hit more a push back than a real stab into his foe's armour.

And while that trick might deter or even knock back a lesser combatant, it seems that Idris' rage is fueling him at present, because he doesn't budge. Instead, he remains standing firmly, lifting the sword — which indeed did not hit its mark — and only barely failed to do so — and bringing it down upon the other man's shoulder in a powerful strike, while taking a step back.

Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 9.

Catryn has a reputation, so Arian does wait to see if she will be allowed up or be readying her shield to take the possible battering. But then there's a hand offered, and Arian nods. She takes it, grip firm, and hoists herself up. "But let us not deny the favorable lead," the Pagan says, breath still hoarse, but there's a hint of a smile there. Then she resumes her stance, and advances once more with her shield up. It is quite obvious, however, that Arian has not quite gotten her equilbrium back yet as she leaves a perfect opening to Catryn to land another confident strike, if she takes it.

Success
Dillion checked his sword of 13, he rolled 5.
Idris rolls 5d6 and gets (5 6 2 4 6) for a total of: (23)
Success
Dillion checked his dex of 12, he rolled 10.

"I am no third in a contest of two and I have no intention of seeing anything become ungentlemanly, the last of which is more than can be said for your kin this day. Your terms are acceptable so long as you hold your tongue from now on and focus on your exertions instead." clearly, Bran intends to shut the hell up and fight as he's suggested, drawing his sword and hefting his shield in preparation for the challenge. He also moves out of the way of the other siblings, freeing up plenty of space for all parties to fight without interference - deliberate or otherwise. Bran waits until it appears that Bartimaeus is prepared before offering the man a salute and advancing to find an opening.

Kamron staggers half a step back at the impact of shield on shield, nodding in acknowledgement of the acknowledgement. The Dinton stays crouched down just a little, lessening the strike zone, so to speak. The smaller target lets him collect Elrick's sword-blade on his shield, sending it glancing off as he sweeps his axe into the other man's shield again. Evidently, he's decided to go through the shield. And it's not working well.

Success
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 4.
Success
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 10.
Success
Bran checked his sword of 15, he rolled 1.
Success
Bartimaeus checked his sword of 15, he rolled 4.
Bartimaeus rolls 5d6 and gets (2 5 3 2 3) for a total of: (15)
Success
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 6.

It had taken some debating on her part, Catryn wouldn't pretend otherwise but the hand was indeed offered and when Arian gets her feet, she also gives her time to get her sword before taking up a defensive stance. With the attack coming, she swings her blade, aiming for her side, just beneath her arm where she had struck previously.

Catryn rolls 4d6 and gets (1 5 6 6) for a total of: (18)
Elrick rolls 5d6 and gets (4 5 5 1 4) for a total of: (19)
Success
Idris checked his merciful of 13, he rolled 7.
Success
Arian checked her dex of 15, she rolled 12.
Success
Kamron checked his dex of 13, he rolled 9.
Failed.
Dillion checked his merciful of 10, he rolled 14.
Success
Dillion checked his cruel of 10, he rolled 8.

Dillion's cute trick has put him too low, and while he anticipates Idris's reply, brings his sword up to answer it, he's too slow, and his adversary's blow only momentarily deflects from his rising shield to smack Dillion right in the shoulder. His body jerks, his old pain from his joust may twinge, and either way he gives a yelp of anger out of all proportion to the blow he suffered.

A tortoise-like scramble forward, shield in front, to close the step Idris gave up, and Dillion brings his sword in a non-book-like upper-swing, this one with his full strength, trying to catch Idris in the side and perhaps end it now.

Failed.
Dillion checked his sword of 13, he rolled 17.
Failed.
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 19.

The challenge between Elrick and Kamron, it is evident that the latter is much better at maneuvering than the former, either it is due to experience or size different, it is obvious. Once more, the Laverstock's blade impacts harmlessly against the Dinton's shield but in return, the Laverstock Knight also brings his own shield into his defense. Once he feels the other knight's weapon impact on his own shield, Elrick steps into Kamron as they are close, slamming his shield against the other knight's again. Using this momentarily advantage of brute force, he also slashes out with his sword, catching the Dinton's side.

A simple nod is Bartimaeus' only reply, the smaller knight lifting his helmet and settling it down over his head.His armor has a worn look about it, much used but expertly maintained, and is a dull slate grey. Stepping into place before Bran, the priestly knight draws his longsword with a ringing 'shrink!' the silvery blade gleaming brightly in the sunlight.
Shrugging his shield down his arm, he presents the symbol, that of a scythe crossed with a crook on a blue backdrop, white sun hanging above. His silvery blade flicks in a salute to Sir Bran, and battle is joined.
Closing quickly with the bigger man he exchanges a flurry of quick, light blows, patiently waiting for the first heavy strike from his larger opponent. When it comes he suddenly braces and bats it aside, then flicks the point of his sword forward to clang it solidly against the center of his enemy's breastplate. Touch made, he steps back and swings his shield up into place, feet set.

Of course, what started out civil seems to be turning into a bitter grudge match. Idris, unfortunately, does not have time to mount an appropriate counterattack to Dillion's new tortoise-like scramble — though the gambit was exactly that. The upper swing, as it is, has to be answered in kind, lest the Bodenham finds himself seriously injured by this fight. And so it is that both swords clash with eachother, the loud ring of metal against metal echoing, with neither of the two with the advantage at present. Still, the Knight of the Griffon rises his shield, that it might catch the other's sword long enough for him to strike, with full force, at the man's now exposed ribcage.

Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 6.
Failed.
Dillion checked his sword of 13, he rolled 19.
Success
Bartimaeus checked his sword of 15, he rolled 3.
Idris rolls 5d6 and gets (4 2 4 6 3) for a total of: (19)
Critical Fail!
Dillion checked his dex of 12, he rolled 20.

Kamron was shuffling off to the side again when Elrick's blade struck his shield, and he stumbles off to his right a little faster and less gracefully than he wanted to. There is a clash of blade on mail, and he gets himself back behind his shield once more as he shifts back to his left, reversing his circle, "One to one, Sir Elrick. Neatly struck."

Critical Success!
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 15.
Success
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 12.
Kamron rolls 8d6 and gets (1 6 5 5 1 3 5 5) for a total of: (31)
Failed.
Elrick checked his DEX of 8, he rolled 18.

Sporting dark armor with both the heraldry of his family - griffon and crossed keys - and a personal crest of a raven, Bran advances with his sword held low and his shield held at the ready to defend. The silver and red barrier has been spiffed up for the tournament, freshly painted and prepared to show off the prowess of the Bodenham family. At least, his brothers seem to have been doing a better job of that thus far. Sword and shield move quickly as Bartimaeus launches his attack, deflecting and parrying and awaiting his opportunity. It comes and he leans his weight into the strike only to have it brushed aside. Open to his opponent's counter, he takes a hit to the chest and gathers himself as he steps back and resets the melee. After a moment, he steps forward to unleash a series of powerful, heavy blows in a fairly obvious attempt to beat his smaller opponent down through sheer strength and size.

Success
Bran checked his sword of 15, he rolled 10.
Bran rolls 5d6 and gets (1 3 1 2 3) for a total of: (10)

More fool Dillion for escalating things. His sword bangs against Idris's, he grunts, disengages the clash of bodies in time with his opponent, brings his sword down for Idris's shield, and catches absolutely one hundred per cent of it. The -whang- of his pommel driving into the Bodenham crest quite drowns out the blow which hits him right across the exposed ribs, and if he wasn't wearing chain armour he'd be leaving his guts all over the field. As it is he folds over double, sword falling out of his arm, and goes down like what in 1,500 years would be called a cartoon character.

Inclining his head in thanks, Elrick gives Kamron a moment after landing that blow against the other knight's side. Once it appears the Dinton is ready to go again and steady with his stance, the Laverstock Knight advances once more. This time he is a bit too eager, after landing that successful blow finally, and opens his shield to slash out with his blade, as if wanting to end the challenge here and now.

Kamron bounces back quickly from the strike to his side, advancing directly toward Elrick without hesitation. His shield rises up to catch the blow from his left, and he tries to step inside the other man's reach, thrusting the top of the axe straight at the center of Elrick's chest. There's no finesse, no dancing, just a direct assault.

The sword point is pointed towards Dillion and Idris intends to claim the advantage, this time. There is no playing nice when one of the sides has fouled the match, after all. "So do you yield, kind Sir, or should I continue until you are lying on the ground in a pool of your own blood? I do not want to kill one of our liege's good knights, so I am leaving the choice, as it is, in your hands. May those here present bear witness that I did ask you before tragedy ensues."

That eagerness and overextension was Elrick's mistake, a costly one. Because not only was his attack telegraphed and deflected but it left him wide open for Kamron's counterblow which slams into him rather hard. It doesn't punch through the linked mail he wears, luckily, but it will no doubt leave a nice bruise later. The wind is knocked out of his lungs for a moment as he falls back hard. However, with adrenaline coursing through him during this duel, the Laverstock quickly rolls off of his back and climbs back onto his feet. With a shake of his head, Elrick hits his own chest with the pommel of his unadorned blade before offering Kamron a salute with his weapon, "Now /that/ was well struck, Sir Kamron. You have the advantage, two to one, let's continue!"

Success
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 11.
Success
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 3.
Elrick rolls 5d6 and gets (3 3 4 2 3) for a total of: (15)

Standing his ground, Bartimaeus meets the larger knight's advance head on, the heavy blows that rain down upon him meeting only his silvery blade. Again and again he meets the strikes, sparks flying from their weapons as they meet with ringing impacts.
But Bran does have the advantage in such bouts of strength, and one of his heavy blows eventually manages to hammer through Bartimaeus' guard and streak down toward his unprotected side. The move forces the Bishopstone to step back and bring his shield around, sword striking home on the white sun with a resounding 'CLANG!' before skittering off to one side. The strike leaves a deep gouge in the paint, but Bartimaeus' footing remains solid.
"Well struck." The priestly knight states, before his silvery blade blurs through the air in three hard counterstrokes aimed for the bigger knights' chest and stomach. he has no time to spare for glances to his brother, Sir Bran's blade requiring the vast bulk of his attention.

Success
Bartimaeus checked his sword of 15, he rolled 11.
Failed.
Kamron checked his DEX of 13, he rolled 16.
Success
Bran checked his sword of 15, he rolled 12.
Critical Success!
Dillion checked his prudent of 10, he rolled 10.

That third strike lands, and Arian staggers back several steps in the wake of the final blow. She immediately holds up her sword and shield, yielding. "Third hit," the knight reports. She takes in a deep breath, drawing herself up tall despite the pain in her side. "Well fought, Sir Catryn, well fought." She starts to sheath her sword so she can roll her helmet off her head. She bows then to Catryn.

Bran rolls 5d6 and gets (4 6 6 2 1) for a total of: (19)
Success
Bartimaeus checked his dex of 12, he rolled 11.

Dillion's sword is over there, his body is spread out on hands and knees, there's a sword pointed at him, he is, in short, whooped. And though the blood surges behind his eyes, the only thing Dillion raises to Idris is his right hand, palm out.

"I yield, sir. I am justly beaten." Dillion makes that concession through clenched jaw, but he at least has the wit to make it and, thanks to said wit, the head to make it if necessary next time.

With the third one hitting, Catryn steps back, not pursuing. The concession is met with a solemn bow of her head. "Well fought, Sir Arian, thank you for the challenge, it has been an honor." Straightening, she removes her own helmet, returning the bow. "The best of luck in the future challenges you face." Looking back over the sidelines, she looks for another challenge.

Success
Idris checked his pious of 10, he rolled 2.

"Very well," Idris replies, sheathing his sword and nodding once to Dillion. "I suggest you go to Church today and ask forgiveness from God for bearing false witness to the honor of an honest, just and God-fearing House as Bodenham. In turn I will myself head to Church and confess my sins, that I might be taught to forgive and forget slights, as the Our Savior intended us to. As the winner of this dispute, I consider this to be the best outcome for the two of us, good Sir." Having no more words to say, he turns to regard his brother's fight with the other Bishopstone.

"The honor is mine," Arian returns with a smile, and she bows her head once more. But then she starts to step away, and a bit of ache shows on her face. That second blow is going to take bit more than just walking off to feel better, but at least her lungs are filling with air again. She starts to the sidelines, casting her gaze toward her brother and the Dinton who conitnue to trade blows. Her brows arch. "Are you boys still flailing at each other?" She shouts across the field.

Success
Dillion checked his pious of 16, he rolled 3.

The much more heated and personal battle beside them is outside of Bran's awareness for the time being. Focused entirely on the Bishopstone in front of him rather than the one his brother has defeated, Bran is prepared for the counters to his successful, if light, touch. His footing is firm, his training having done him well, as he backsteps away from Bartimaeus' furious assault. Batting his strikes to the side and capturing the final one with his sword, he muscles the Bishoptone's sword arm away and lashes out with a quick and brutal strike that hits home but leaves the pious man on his feet. The score is two to one, but Bran doesn't announce it, instead preparing for the next flurry leading to a point for one of the men.

Success
Bartimaeus checked his sword of 15, he rolled 11.

Kamron delays for that moment necessary for Elrick to return to his feet, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his side. He gives a little salute at the compliment, and then forges forward, looking to duplicate his success with the direct assault, his axe coming up and over toward Eldrick's left shoulder. The blow is foiled neatly enough, and then Eldrick's sword strikes him as he is over-balanced, driving his shield back into his shoulder and then catching mail as well up along his upper arm. The blow knocks him stumbling forward, and his shoulder hits the turf, sending him into something approximating a roll (although much less graceful). His shield comes up immediately, but there is no additional blow coming, not immediately, and Kam nods his thanks as he rises back to his feet, "Two all. Once more into the breach."

Dillion takes a long, deep, shaking breath, and goes from hands and knees to just knees, hands on his thighs, breathing heavily and gaze downcast until he looks up at Idris. He really -ought- to look resentful. And while his expression isn't exactly happy, his bitterness is certainly not directed at his adversary.

"God has given me a lesson, sir, indeed." Dillion puts his hand on the grass and, with difficulty and discomfort, pushes himself onto his feet. He, too, is done talking, and after staggering over to grab his sword watches the other fight, though with a somewhat more distracted air.

Kamron delays for that moment necessary for Elrick to return to his feet, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his side. He gives a little salute at the compliment, and then forges forward, looking to duplicate his success with the direct assault, his axe coming up and over toward Eldrick's left shoulder. The blow is foiled neatly enough, and then Eldrick's sword strikes him as he is over-balanced, driving his shield back into his shoulder and then catching mail as well up along his upper arm. The blow knocks him stumbling forward, and his shoulder hits the turf, sending him into something approximating a roll (although much less graceful). His shield comes up immediately, but there is no additional blow coming, not immediately, and Kam nods his thanks as he rises back to his feet, "Two all. Once more into the breach." Arian's shout reaches his ears, but he keeps his focus on her brother, "I think we're nearly done here, Sir Arian."

With no immediate people available, Catryn watches the Dinton and the Laverstock, "I wonder if I could challenge Sir Elrick after?" There's a curious look cast between the Dinton and Arian, though she doesn't comment on anything. Instead, she takes a more studied look at the two fighting it out.

Miruan is watching, the eccentric Winterborne Gunnet-er curious. The cat is watching just as silently. One might expect them to up and simply vanish at any moment. It's a bit eerie.

"Two all." Elrick repeats with a nod of agreement on the score betweent he pair. Hearing his sister's teasing jibes though, a side glance is offered to Adrian as he smirks at her. No words are offered in return as the older Laverstock returns his focus onto Kamron, offering the other knight a nod and once more he advances on his opponent. This time, it isn't a reckless charge though, a more cautious approach with his shield up and gaze focused. A feint is made with his shield, as if to rush forward to bash but instead Elrick takes a step forward and comes forward with a slash at Kamron's thigh.

Success
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 6.
Success
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 7.
Critical Fail!
Elrick checked his DEX of 8, he rolled 20.

Though he is winded, Idris looks about to see who might be a challenger for him next. "Do we have any takers to fight me? The day is yet long, and I feel the need to toil away at my skills with the blade."

Kamron waits for Elrick to advance on him, waiting to move until… almost too late. He darts to his right, bringing his shield across his body to punch the slash out to his right with the edge of his shield. The motion continues downward to clear a path for a quick, sharp cut over the top of his shield and aimed at the top of Elrick's right shoulder — or the back of it if the bigger man continues forward.

Again showing the sheer difference in bulk between the two men, Bran's muscular approach to the duel comes close to catching the methodical Bishopstone flat footed. But as if by magic, just before the Bodenham's sword can strike his mailed stomach it is caught once more by the broad painted face of his shield. The impact forces Bartimaeus to back a step for balance, but he remains firmly on his feet.
His silvery sword leaves a gleaming afterimage in the air as he whips it up and around in a hard strike aimed for Bran's left shoulder, then follows it up with a darting lunge for the center of the man's chest and two quick hacks down toward first his right, then his left arms.

Critical Fail!
Bran checked his sword of 15, he rolled 20.
Bartimaeus rolls 5d6 and gets (4 4 3 6 2) for a total of: (19)
Success
Bran checked his dex of 8, he rolled 6.

It was close, but Elrick's blade just misses his intended target and is neatly caught by Kamron's shield. The parrying motion of the shield actually helps the Laverstock Knight move forward, causing him to overextend again and the axe lands neatly on his back. That extra force helps propell him down into the ground, face first. Luckily, Elrick was wearing a helm and the helm drives into the dirt. Laying there for a moment, perhaps a bit embarassed, he finally pushes himself off of the ground, actually pulling his helm that was partially embedded into the dirt out. Clumps of dirt and grass clings to the metal portions of the helm, forcing Elrick to reach up and unclasp the protective piece. Unhelmed, one can see the older Laverstock is damp with perspiration from the duel as he nods his head at the Dinton, "Well fought, Sir Kamron, the victory is yours."

Bran manages to fend off a majority of the attacks, but the final one touches his armor. His own attack begins clumsy and ends even worse. Perhaps he was stung by the Bishopstone's blow and his hand numbed. That would hardly stop him from launching an offensive, which he does. The raven knight, which he fancies himself even if no one else does, lunges quickly and then diverts his weight and momentum into an overhead blow that simply sounds wrong when it clangs against Bartimaeus' shield. The sword flies free and drops to the ground between the men, Instinctively, Bran brings his shield up and prepares to use both hands to both defend and attack with the defensive implement. "A contest of gentleman." he says from within his helm, voice muffled and low as he slightly relaxes his stance and looks to his sword. He trusts in his opponent's honorable conduct and leans down to retrieve his weapon. After another salute, he attacks once more, trying out his brother's more reckless style for a change. Shield and sword swinging like a whirlwind, steel slicing through the air and slashing toward Bartimaeus in an attempt to break the tie in his favor.

Success
Bran checked his sword of 15, he rolled 9.
Critical Success!
Bartimaeus checked his sword of 15, he rolled 15.
Failed.
Bartimaeus checked his 10d6 of , he rolled 10.
Bartimaeus rolls 10d6 and gets (6 6 2 6 4 2 4 3 6 2) for a total of: (41)
Success
Arian checked her lustful of 16, she rolled 1.

When Kamron bests Elrick, Arian offers a small clap — though it is almost half-hearted. Hard to decide if she is for or against her brother when Kamron is involved. She then curls hands at her mouth, and shouts toward the pair. "Shall I avenge you, brother? I have taken Sir Kamron once, I can take him again." There is something almost impish in her voice, and her smile curves with bold mischief.

Success
Kamron checked his lustful of 7, he rolled 2.

Kamron looks to the sword-blade right in front of him, with just his shield between it and him, and then Elrick is past him, and the impact is rocking up his arm from the axe blow. He slides the haft of his axe into the loop on his belt, stepping forward to offer out his hand to the fallen Laverstock. "I will be feeling those blows for days, Sir Elrick. It was well-fought indeed." Arian's commentary causes his ears to redden, "As I recall, Sir Arian, the last time we faced one another, you were the one who ended up calling a yield."

Having used the edge of his shield to neatly smack Bran's sword out of his numb fingers, Bartimaeus immediately steps back and lowers the tip of his blade to the ground. He makes no move to attack as the other knight stoops to retrieve his blade, placid voice muffled through his helm as he states simply, "I am a man of the cloth, sir knight." And truly, only once Bran is re-armed and set does the Bishopstone lift his blade into readiness.
Perhaps the Bodenham thought that a change in tactics would surprise his opponent. If that was the case, he is sadly mistaken. Bran's berserker slashes are met with serene parry's, the swipes of his shield deftly deflected. Backing a step, he waits for another of the big knight's massive overhead chops, and once it comes, he twists his body and smashes it aside with an upward swipe of his shield. Sword deflected, he turns and hooks the edge of his shield through Bran's, prying it away from his body as he swings back around and hammers the edge of his blade home in the exact center of the large man's breastplate. The impact is enormous , sparks flying as the force of the silvery blade drives the Bodenham back and forces their shields to unlock.

Elrick's gaze shifts from the Dinton Knight to his sister once more, eyes narrowing as his face looks a bit grouchy after that loss, almost a pout but not quite. But after hearing Kamron's words that Arian was the one to wield, the smirk returns to the older Laverstock, "Ha, so you also lost in the duel then?" It appears that he has not caught on to the potential double meaning yet otherwise a different gaze would have been leveled at a different person. "There is no need to avenge, it was a close fight and Sir Kamron fought honorably."

Dillion watches his brother's battle and, out of sheer Christian charity, cringes as his latest blow. That cringe may be influenced by the fact that, between his jousting and duelling wounds, he is still not able to stand up quite straight, bent over in his armour like an old man and leaning noticeably on his shield.

When the shields unlock, Bran goes sprawling. This Bishopstone-Bodenham fight seems to be mirroring the previous one with the roles reversed. Bran falls hard onto the ground and, while he's not injured, it takes him a moment to right himself and haul himself back to his feet after the monumentous blow. In pain but determined to see the contest through to the end, he takes another minute to stablilize himself, get his balance, and find his feet once he's standing. After looking across at Bartimaeus for a short time, he retrieves his implements of war, carefully sliding his arm into the loops of his shield and securely grasping his sword. A few swings test his grip and his fluidity of motion to make sure everything is in order. Aside from a pounding pressure on his chest that will likely pain him for some time, everything seems to be in order. Bran's shoulders lift and fall as he takes a deep and aching breath that sends a starburst of pain through his body. "Four touches to two, Sir Bartimaeus. Let us finish this."

"Would you care to challenge me, Sir Elrick?" Catryn recognizes him, he is familiar to her and she still has her shield and sword, waiting quietly for a challenge to be offered. Instead of waiting further, she issues on of her own to the other Laverstock. Her lips twist with an ironic smile. "Unless you would not wish to lose again?"

"You sadden me, brother, but as you wish!" Arian smiles as she steps forward, shield and sword stowed away. She glances over toward the other fighters, watching the exchange of blows curiously. Then she glances over toward Catryn as she calls to her brother, and her brows arch high over her eyes when she looks back to him. The small jibe added to the challenge turns her smile crooked. "Don't let her tease you like that, El."

After sheating his blade, Elrick unstraps his shield off of his left arm and leans it against his leg, the tip resting on the ground. This frees his hands to begin cleaning his dirt clumped helm, picking the grass and dirt off of the metal trappings. Hearing Catryn's words and teasing taunt, the smirk returns as the older Laverstock looks up. "Sir Catryn… very well, I challenge you to blades. You may have beaten me last time but you know it was because you were always quicker than me. When my blows landed, they /hurt/." Cleaning his helm a bit more, Elrick is finally satisfied that it won't obstruct his vision or breathing, despite the dirt not fully removed. Then the shield is strapped back on his arm.

"You are a worthy opponent, sir Bran." Bartimaeus replies softly, once again lowing his sword tip to the ground while his opponent readies himself for the next clash. "I sincerely apologize for whatever offence my brother has given you and your family." And the pious knight sounds as if he means it.
But then Bran is ready, and battle must be joined.
The Bishopstone's shimmering blade is lifted in salute before he closes. His steps are measured, shield up and blade tip flickering from side to side as he tests the larger man's defenses. Finding them strong, he moves in and aims a heavy overhead chop for his opponent's right shoulder, the smaller man's surprising strength able to be felt behind the arcing blow.

Failed.
Bartimaeus checked his sword of 15, he rolled 16.
Success
Bran checked his sword of 15, he rolled 13.
Bran rolls 5d6 and gets (1 3 1 1 6) for a total of: (12)

Kamron glances over to the ongoing fight that does not quite seem to be a simple challenge, frowning inside his helmet. "That looks…" And then he shakes it off, looking back to the Laverstocks and Burcombe. Reaching out with his right hand to put it on Elrick's shoulder, adding to Arian's advice, "Don't let her rile you. Fighting angry is dangerous, Sir Elrick." And then he turns his helmet back to Arian, "So, did you want a challenge or not, Sir Arian?"

"With you, Sir Kamron? Everyday is a challenge." Arian's smile is broad and dimpled, and her eyes flash with amusement. "Oh, you mean with blades and shields…" She gestures at the field, and then she nods. "Very well. But winner buys the loser wine." She then draws out her shield from its place at her back and gestures. "Choose your square of lawn, Sir Kamron." She casts another glance to Elrick. "Blessed be your blade, Sir Elrick!"

After simply stating the score, Bran falls silent again. No yelling or cursing the Bishopstones or accepting the apology of the elder Bishopstone present. Simply the sounds of exertion and a few grunts of pain as he is forced to lift his shield to defend himself once more. No more reckless tricks, simply solid defense. An iron wall of parries and blocks, swatting aside or harmlessly absorbing everything Bartimaeus has to offer this go round. When he competently blocks another swing, he steps into it to weaken the force and give him an opening to slash laterally across Bartimaeus' midsection, scoring another point for the Bodenham knight. They're fairly evenly matched if one doesn't take into account the previous disarming and complete flattening Bran has suffered. No call of the score this time. They both know where they stand. Just focus and a strengthening of his fortitude to allow him to both fight through the pain and concentrate on finishing this contest in his own favor.

Success
Bran checked his sword of 15, he rolled 10.
Success
Bartimaeus checked his sword of 15, he rolled 13.
Bartimaeus rolls 5d6 and gets (6 1 2 5 4) for a total of: (18)
Failed.
Bran checked his dex of 8, he rolled 14.

The taunt does the intended job and the challenge is made. "I gladly accept then." Catryn looks over the brother and sister duo but her eyes settle on the more masculine of the two as he cleans his shield. "I will meet you on the field then, shall I?" Dipping her head to the two, she does an about face and heads out to an empty part where they can complete their challenge, her helm on, shield in place, sword in hand.

The word of advice offered from the Dinton Knight is acknowledge with a nod by Elrick, "Of course, Sir Kamron. When I'm in a fight, my focus is centered. Worry not, just don't lose to my sister. If you did, then I won't hear the end of how she beat the person who beat me." As for Arian's words of encouragements? They are waved off though a glance of thanks is offered in silence as he heads out to the open field where he would face off with Catryn. As he stands opposite of where the Burcombe Knight awaits him, Elrick slips on his helm and secures it, then offers her a salute with his blade, showing that he is ready.

Sparks dance between the knights as Bartimaeus and Bran trade blows, grass trampled flat beneath their boots as they circle and back across the field. One of Bran's blows manages to slip through and skitters across the chain covering Bartimaeus' stomach, but the stolid knight doesn't even stagger. His opponent is tiring, and it can be felt in the play of blades.
"I thank you for the match, Sir Bran." Bartimaeus says with solemn politeness, stepping forward and hammering a heavy series of blows against the man's sword. Eventually managing to drive the weapon wide, he swings his shield down and traps the larger knights' blade briefly against the ground, then brings his own swinging around in a heavy horizontal cut that hammers into the big man's shield with a resounding 'CLANG!'

Dillion stays precisely long enough to see Bartimaeus even the score for the Bishopstones. Then he nods, silently, to himself. Planting his shield more firmly into the turf to support his aching body, the young knight draws himself up to something like his height and, fairly carefully, quits the field, in quiet contemplation of the afternoon's events.

"That's why I'm such an entertaining friend, Sir Arian." Kamron steps out toward a clear patch of grass, nodding to Elrick, "I'll do my best, Sir Elrick. But I fear she is a tricky one." And then he draws the wood-blocked axe, hefting it for a moment to find the right balance, and then settles in facing Arian, with his shield up before him ready to fight.

Failed.
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 17.
Success
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 5.
Arian rolls 4d6 and gets (6 5 4 4) for a total of: (19)
Success
Kamron checked his dex of 13, he rolled 3.

The gesture is indeed taken as a signal he is ready and Catryn offers no hesitation, her blade is immediately brought down and towards the Laverstock knight even as her own shield is lifted to block the return, hoping to catch him and block and gain the point for the early lead.

Success
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 3.
Success
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 4.

The cat lady is watching. Ever watching. Miruan smiles to people in passing, at least.

Elrick rolls 5d6 and gets (4 4 3 5 1) for a total of: (17)
Failed.
Catryn checked her dex of 17, she rolled 18.

The Laverstock knight laughs before she rolls her head back up into her helmet. Then Arian pulls her sword from the sheath while stepping out to field with the Dinton. Once she is settled in the grass, she turns toward him. Again, she bounces the hilt of her sword, finding a comfortable grip. Then she strikes, almost quickly and suddenly. Her shield is drawn up tight to her, as if anticipating a blow. Hers comes first though, swinging out to strike toward his side.

Having fought Catryn more than once in the past, Elrick knows that she is quick, perhaps even quicker than the Dinton Knight he had just faced. So once he signaled, the Laverstock Knight was already prepared for the incoming onslaught. His own shield is raised but she is rather quick, her strike going to where the shield isn't. This forces him to parry the attack and just in the nick of time, causing her attack to go wide. Elrick manages a quick slash back at Catryn, just hard enough to cause her to become unbalanced. Instead of pressing on though, he takes two steps back, shield up again as he allows her to stand, perhaps also wary of any tricks she may have while down.

Kamron retreats before Arian's quick offensive, bringing his shield up for a moment, blocking one strike, and then the second comes in faster than he expects, and he has to twist away, taking a rather solid blow across the back of his left shoulder as he does his best to retain his balance, stumble-stepping around to her left side and bringing axe and shield back up.

Success
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 3.
Critical Fail!
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 20.
Kamron rolls 4d6 and gets (1 1 1 4) for a total of: (7)

Arian relishes a bit when she manages a hit against the Dinton. Perhaps she relishes a bit too much. When the knight brings up his shield and axe, she is moving forward quickly for another strike, but she misses a vital key in all this as she shortens her reach too much and opens herself up to a far too easy hit from the axe-wielder. It strikes out sharp against her wrist, and her sword hand loses its grip. It falls heavily to the grass, and Arian immediately brings up her shield in instinct to guard her from further blows. Her fingers sing as her nerves report the sharp resound of the hit to her wrist.

The disadvantage of fighting someone who knew her fighting style. Catryn finds herself missing him and his blade finding her and knocking her back onto her backside. With a crooked smile, she hurriedly hops up to her feet, getting her grip good on her sword when eh steps back. "Nice hit, point for you." She takes a more defensive stance, awaiting the attack in order to hopefully parry and counter.

Kamron puts his axe into the front of her shield as she approaches this time, and it is his shield that hammers out and to his left, the rim striking her wrist. He does not, however, directly follow-up the hit, instead backing up when he sees the sword flash away and settling into a defensive stance again, "I believe that puts us to one and one, Sir Arian. At your ready."

Seeing his opponent in a defensive stance this time, Elrick is more than willing to oblige as he isn't one afraid to advance when he must. Instead of a reckless charge though, the Laverstock closes in one step at a time and when he is getting close, there appears to be a slight moment of hesitation. Then a feint with his blade is made before he takes another, larger, step forward so he can attempt to slam his shiel against Catryn's. This is quickly followed by a slash to her left thigh, Elrick apparently hoping the shield bash was enough to knock her defenses awry.

Success
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 8.
Failed.
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 19.
Elrick rolls 5d6 and gets (5 3 1 4 1) for a total of: (14)
Success
Catryn checked her dex of 17, she rolled 6.

Arian takes the pause to catch her breath and fetch her sword from its fallen place in the grass. She shakes her head, starting to laugh a bit. "Perhaps I should just sprawl out on the grass and admire the clouds for the afternoon…" Her self-deprecation is at least quite amused. Then she boucnes hte hilt a few more times and then advances once more.

Success
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 3.
Success
Kamron checked his sword of 10, he rolled 1.
Arian rolls 4d6 and gets (2 2 1 2) for a total of: (7)

It's not really expected so the bashing with the sword does manage to bring her off enough so that her sword doesn't manage to find its mark at all. Catryn manages to catch herself without falling. "And two to you." There's an uncommon curve of her lips, a genuine smile, "You've improved since last time, Sir Elrick."

"And that would be a shame, Sir Arian." Kamron catches one slash from the Laverstock on the shield, turns another aside with the flat of his axe, and then twists away from the third — but not fast enough, as she tags his right arm, leaving him retreating and shaking out his arm, "Two to one. And see, you were going to deprive us all of the show."

Success
Kamron checked his axe of 15, he rolled 1.
Success
Arian checked her sword of 15, she rolled 9.
Arian rolls 4d6 and gets (2 2 4 6) for a total of: (14)
Failed.
Kamron checked his dex of 13, he rolled 17.

"Sometime soon, Sir Bartimaeus, I will fight you as my brother did." Idris states to the Bishopstone, "But not today, as I've already bested a Bishopstone this day, and I need not another victory."

Failed.
Bartimaeus checked his temperate of 13, he rolled 18.
Success
Bartimaeus checked his indulgent of 7, he rolled 2.

"You think so?" Arian counters with a smirk. She circles him a bit, trying to gauge her next opening. She spots it, perhaps because of the zinging hit to his arm. She advances. Her sword is up, shield pulled tight against her side. She aims to strike once more against that same arm, hoping to shake his grip loose of his axe in the same way he had caused her sword to fall. But, maybe, this strike has a bit too much power behind it.

The goading words from Catryn causes Elrick to smirk once more, expression amused though still focused. He does give a rather friendly reply instead of ignoring her all together, "I always improve, Sir Catryn." That said, he dosen't give her too much of a reprieve, not wanting her to control the tempo. He advances once more with shield in front, his gaze looking over from the top of it as he studies her. Once more, he slashes out with his blade, this time going high for her midsection instead of her leg, shield ready to defend against any attacks or counters.

Success
Elrick checked his sword of 15, he rolled 14.
Success
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 11.
Elrick rolls 5d6 and gets (5 1 1 4 4) for a total of: (15)
Success
Catryn checked her dex of 17, she rolled 10.

Having retreated from his fallen opponent and respectfully turned to give Sir Bran some privacy with which to recover, Bartimaeus' helmed head turns to regard Sir Idris. After a moment of quiet reflection he lifts his sword and sheathes it with a soft 'Shhhhnk.'
"Has my brother's folly taught you nothing of humility?" The Bishopstone asks quietly. As he speaks he removes his arm from his shield and slings the heavy slab onto his back,then lifts his helmet from his head. His dirty blonde hair is plastered across his forehead with sweat, short beard flat and damp with it. Scarred lips press in a hard line of disapproval as he regards the larger knight. "I have shown you nothing but respect, and have apologized for my brother's indiscretion. Furthermore, you have bested him quite soundly in battle. I feel that is plenty payment enough for whatever slight he may have given you."
Apparently the priest can't resist a chance to preach about good Christian values. It's a little ironic, really.

"I will have to remember that," Catryn counters, though when he studies her, she lifts her eyes to look through her helm at him and as the slash comes, she's much too slow to counter or even parry it, getting hit with the practice blade. It's the third hit and he wins. "And I think you've ensured I would not forget your improvement." She flips up the visor of her helm, "Well fought, Sir Elrick."

With the third hit by Elrick landing soundly, he takes a step back before lowering his guard. The blade is neatly sheathed and with his free hand, he pulls his helm off of his head, "Thank you Sir Catryn, well fought. Looks like it took a couple of losses on my part to truly awaken my sword arm. Until next time we face off again." There is no goading or mocking from the Laverstock Knight, as he knows that she had always had the advantage in the past when they dueled. A bow of head is offered and Elrick turns to look for his sister to see if her challenge was finished.

Kamron never quite recovers from the blow to his arm, as when he tries to knock aside her next blow, his hand rises more slowly than he intends. He gets his shield up in time to take the blow to the top rim, but the power of her strike drives it down to clash into his arm, and he stumbles forward, going down to one knee and holding up his axe-wielding hand, "Three. You've beaten me, Sir Arian." There's a beat pause, and then he adds, "And see, you could have been admiring clouds."

"The slight is forgiven, Sir Bartimaeus, and forgotten. This is about the competition itself and my love of it, not the personal offense your brother has made to my House," Idris explains, regarding the other man seriously. "As the purpose of this tournament is to compete. It is in this spirit that I say so."

Arian accepts the yield with quickness and grace. The short woman drops her sword to her side, and her shield relaxes. She steps up, dropping her hand gently to Kamron's shoulder, and she starts to smile gently. "Well fought, Kam," she murmurs, and then she starts to step away. "Though, I suppose this means that I must buy you a cup of wine, Sir Kamron." She glances around the field. "Meet me at the tavern later?" She tilts her head, sheathing her sword as she does.

Bartimaeus' stern features soften a bit with Idris' explanation, dark blue eyes regarding the much larger man with quiet passivity. "Ah. Well, please except yet another apology for my abrupt response. It was unbecoming of me. A fight for love would be acceptable. I too intend to accept personal challenges throughout the festivities." The Bishopstone tucks his helmet beneath his arm, basking in the feel of fresh air on his damp face.
"But, Sir Knight, if you would excuse me? I must attend to my brother before his wounds grow foul. Lord's blessing upon you." That being said, Bartimaeus nods once toward Sir Idris and turns on the spot, heading off in the wake of his departed sibling.

"Of course, Sir Bartimaeus, walk in the light of God," Idris tells the man, quietly turning to regard Bran for a moment, offer a respectful nod to his elder brother and wait. Perhaps for a new competitor, as the challenges seem to be dying down.

Kamron nods slightly at Arian's words, tucking his axe into his belt-loop and reaching up to pat her forearm briefly before he rises back up to his feet and pulls off his helm, tossing it to Newt — who promptly drops it. Shaking his head, he nods to Arian, "I always pay my debts, Sir Arian." Didn't she say that she was buying though?

Towards the later part of the day, Aeryn arrives with her squire Beth beside her. The Winterbourne Stoke wears an easy smile for the younger girl at her side. "If I at least win three matches this time I will come close to the victories last tournament." She had won the last one, so she expects plenty of challengers who would want to prove themselves against her. Not that she assumes she is better than anyone, just.. who wouldn't want to beat the winner? She looks around at the different matches and smiles, "My helm, please," in which it's handed over and she awaits the first challenge.

Standing on the side after just losing to Elrick, Catryn is waiting there to see if anyone else would like another challenge. For the moment, she just stands there beside her squire, solemn and quiet.

Cynrain walks onto the Tournament Field, his squire carries his shield and long sword. Spotting Catryn, he directs his course towards her with some haste in his step. Upon arriving within respectable distance, he stops and dips his head in respect, "Sir Catryn." He brings his eyes to meet hers. "I wish to challenge you."

Turning to Aeryn, the Bodenham knight approaches the blonde, sword in hand, sweating buckets, but still rather willing to fight in order to possibly get a win. There has been three matches he won and one he lost, why not risk with a fifth? "Sir. A fight, if you would?"

At the arrival of Cynrain, Catryn's betrothed, the Burcombe dips her head in response. "I wonder have you not had enough duels with me as of yet. Now I wonder what we will fight like when we each carry the other's favor." It's rhetorical, to be proven soon. "First to three, Sir Cynrain? I do accept your challenge."

Cynrain nods to Catryn, "First to three strikes? Or first to three knockdowns, Sir Catryn?" he turns to his squire and slips his left arm into his shield. He then unsheathes the long sword and takes a step back, nodding to his squire. She was correct, a ribbon is tied to his left bicep: her favor. He claps his sword against his shield, making a loud clang as he starts to slowly circle her. He still waits to hear which three she means, as well as when she symbolizes she is ready to begin.

"I would gladly accept." Affording the Bodenham a smile, Aeryn lifts the helm onto her head then reaches for her shield from Beth. The squire assists in adjusting it then hands her the practice sword she had carried. With herself prepared, she walks towards the field, an empty area to leave them plenty of space for their spar. Squaring off, she positions her feet for the best position to remain on them as she awaits Idris.

Seeing as Idris is already prepared, and has been warmed up by the four challenges he has faced, the only disadvantage he has is that he is tired. That, and she was the champion from the Winter Tourney. Nevertheless, the Bodenham joins the Knight of Winterbourne Stoke at the field of her choosing and waits for a moment before angling in on her, once the duel has begun. His first attempt at an attack is a simple diagonal arc across her torso, the largest target in anybody.

Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 5.

"Knockdowns would take too long, we'll do three strikes. I've been knocked down recently by your hand while dueling, so I think I would like to keep my feet beneath me this time." Catryn pulls her practice sword, prepared for the challenge with him. Like him, she has a favor, a sash around her own arm, wrapped a few times and tied off. Seeing him circle, she takes the decision out of his hands as for when to strike and goes for first strike herself.

Critical Success!
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 15.
Success
Aeryn rolls 4d6 and gets (1 1 2 5) for a total of: (9)
Success
Cynrain checked his sword of 15, he rolled 12.
Catryn rolls 4d6 and gets (2 5 2 1) for a total of: (10)
Catryn rolls 8d6 and gets (2 4 1 3 4 6 4 5) for a total of: (29)

Aeryn lifts her sword in time to block the strike for the most part but she follows it with a deft swing of her sword to bring it down and slash across his shoulder. She wasn't able to get much strength behind it, but she does score the first point. Trying to keep the advantage she immediately into another attack.
Success

Aeryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 14.

As Catryn advances on him suddenly, Cynrain tries to lift his shield but she is too swift, her strike to precise. She catches him perfectly against the chest. He stumbles backwards, trying to keep his footing but the strike was too hard. He falls backwards and lands on his back. He tries to get to his feet quickly, "Have you been saving that for me?"

Critical Fail!
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 20.
Aeryn rolls 4d6 and gets (6 5 2 1) for a total of: (14)

Apparently, Aeryn's attack is much too strong, or Idris is particularly slow in this fight, because the second strike by Aeryn not only hits, but the knight is disarmed. Regarding the sword on the ground with scorn, he draws his second, the one with the bejeweled pommel, and readies himself to try again, taking the offensive.

Critical Success!
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 15.

"I have your favor, Cynrain, shouldn't I do my best?" Catryn steps back, allowing him to gather his feet beneath him and his sword, glad to allow him that courtesy. Once he's positioned though, she doesn't hesitate, when his shield, sword and his feet are in place, she moves in for another slash against him.

Success
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 1.
Success
Cynrain checked his sword of 15, he rolled 14.
Cynrain rolls 5d6 and gets (5 2 1 6 5) for a total of: (19)

Allowing him the time to get his sword, Aeryn waits. When he does collect it and comes at her, she does her best to get her shield in place of the hit while swinging her own towards his leg, just trying to get a point out of it and block his.

Success
Aeryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 11.
Idris rolls 10d6 and gets (5 6 3 2 3 4 2 4 4 6) for a total of: (39)
Success
Catryn checked her dex of 17, she rolled 7.

This time, Idris' attack is a sweeping side-cut, involving all of the momentum built between several quick steps and the abrupt motion of his torso as he leans his weight into the attack. Perhaps he has decided to give the champion a good show, this time.

Aeryn manages to not get her shield in place and the hit knocks her to the ground. It's a fairly even game as she gathers her sword and gets her feet almost in one smooth motion. "Good." She nods in approval, but once she's ready, she swings her blade towards him.

Success
Aeryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 14.
Critical Success!
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 15.
Idris rolls 10d6 and gets (5 3 4 5 3 6 1 3 6 4) for a total of: (40)

Cynrain is ready now. When Catryn moves in to strike, he swipes towards the right shoulder, stepping towards her and connecting the blow. The strike causes her sword to swipe to his left, missing him entirely. He doesn't relent now, he brings his sword back in an attempt to bring it down on her left shoulder now.

Success
Cynrain checked his sword of 15, he rolled 8.
Success
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 5.

Not only is Aeryn skilled with the blade, Idris has to predict exacty where that sword will sail in an arc next. So he smashes his shield against the upcoming arc it travels, taking the opportunity to sweep low at Aeryn's waist in order to knock her down onto the floor once again.

Cynrain rolls 5d6 and gets (4 2 6 6 2) for a total of: (20)
Success
Catryn checked her dex of 17, she rolled 2.

It was a fairly even match between Catryn and Cynrain. When he swings, her shield is there, but too late, too little too late, and she finds him scoring the point. Losing track of it, she's not sure exactly the score, but she doesn't relent, she swings the next attack.

Failed.
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 19.
Critical Fail!
Cynrain checked his sword of 15, he rolled 20.

Aeryn manages to fall, again, the brute strength of the Bodenham proving too much for her. Like her compadre there, she has lost track of the scoring and she gets to her feet, a little sore from the strikes. "You're very strong, that's really good." She gets a more defensive stance, unless it's over.

Success
Idris checked his sword of 15, he rolled 8.

Bringing her sword up to parry Cynrain's, her strike matches the momentum of his downward swipe. After a clang, Cynrain's sword is released and falls to the ground. Without hesitation, he moves quickly to retrieve the blade.

It is not over, not yet, at least, they might as well be in sudden death considering the equal amount of hits. Unless knockdowns are considered double, which nobody has used as a rule…except in one match. "You are very quick," Idris points out, getting ready to rush at Aeryn with his shield, while his arm is reared back for a swing.

Success
Aeryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 3.
Idris rolls 5d6 and gets (2 3 5 5 1) for a total of: (16)
Success
Aeryn checked her dex of 15, she rolled 4.

And now it's over. Aeryn takes the hit, the score, striking but not as well as he does so the third and final point goes to him. She remains on her feet though and she offers a nod of respect "Well fought."

Catryn is able to miss. Whatever works for the two, it seems to make it at least simultaneous. She does allow him to collect his sword without striking again, for some reason being softer than she usually is in tournaments. When he is armed though, she moves in for an immediate strike.

Failed.
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 17.

"Well fought, Sir Aeryn," Idris nods to his opponent respectfully, tapping his helmet with his fingers in a salute. "It was a good fight, and I hope to see you at the melee."

Failed.
Cynrain checked his sword of 15, he rolled 17.
Success
Catryn checked her sword of 15, she rolled 11.
Success
Cynrain checked his sword of 15, he rolled 13.
Cynrain rolls 5d6 and gets (6 1 3 5 6) for a total of: (21)

His fight finished, Idris walks out of the Tournament Field, removing his helmet. When his face can be seen, it is plainly apparent he is very, very exhausted, as well as breathing heavily.

Success
Catryn checked her dex of 17, she rolled 11.

And then there were two. Catryn manages to clang swords against his repeatedly before he manages to find an open place and strikes her scoring the third and final point of the match. She lifts her helm and looks equally as tired. "It was a good match, well done."

Cynrain hands off his sword and shield to his squire. He moves towards Catryn once more and extends his hand to her, "Well done. Good hit that first one.. I think that will bruise." he winks.

When Cynrain approaches her, Catryn hands off helm, sword and shield. As soon as he is in front of her, she smiles then lifts a hand to his shoulder and leans in to kiss him right there in front of everyone.

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