(121-06-14) Jousting Flowers
Jousting Flowers
Summary: Loryn and Viggo enjoy a practice joust.
Date: 14/06/2014
Related: None.

The Tourney Grounds stand just outside of the walls of Oldtown. There is a raised platform of several levels for noble viewers, with space for comfortable chairs and little tables to be set in place, and tall posts for canopies to be hung to keep the sun off. Not far stands the great board where the lists are kept. On the far side of the grounds rough tiered benches are available for the smallfolk, and past them there's a flat field for the knights to erect their pavilions in the grass.

The long log rail for the jousts stands right before the Lords' and Ladies' platform, with the space for the melee just beyond it. The archery butts are mounded at the Southwest edge of the grounds, where a great meadow of purple-red fireweed spreads off into the distance. The rough little narrow road to Blackcrown cuts through it.

Unpopulated, there is a somber air to the Tourney Grounds with the stands empty and no shrill cries of excitement in the air. The pitch and the lists take on a maudlin appearance that holds none of the grandness that encompasses a tournament. The long line of the list rain marking a backbone that leaves a long shadow in the bare dirt as the morning sun threatens of a hot day. This morning, they are not wholly empty as the rush of a chestnut destier's hooves kick up clouds of dust. Head down and intent, the horse and its rider charge down the field, showing no sign of flinching as they bear down upon the unwitting dummy target with a lance in hand. It cracks with a satisfying sound, swinging the tilt about as Ser Viggo Cockshaw races by. Although, without his hat one might not recognize him. It is left to hang on one end of the rail, mournfully watching its owner practice.

Glum is the best description for Loryn Tyrell's face when he wanders into the tourney grounds with all the speed and enthusiasm of an overfed snail. He's leading an equally glum looking horse by the bridle, the large destrier carrying two bags strapped to its side - one by the shape and length of it, containing some lances. Horse and human approach the lists, coming to a halt when they realize that someone is actually being busy there. Settling in to watch for now, it seems.

The cracking of wood resonating in the air, the rider and chestnut slow their charge with a practiced air and come to a slow turn at the edge of the grounds. Leaning down, the rider pats the sweating chestnut's neck with apparent fondness and bends as if to murmur something at the horse. There. Good show. Straightening in his seat, Viggo becomes aware that he has gained an audience. Trotting towards Loryn, he pulls his helmet from his head - moustache impeccable and hair a mess - greeting him with a broad smile, "Good Morn, Squire Tyrell!"

"Ah, you know me.", Loryn realizes when the man greets him, but then who doesn't. "Ser Viggo Cockshaw, isn't it?", he tries to make sure, "You ride well. Perhaps you've withdrawn from the tourney circuit too early? I'm sure you could still beat the best of the - and make the ladies swoon.", he smirks, though it seems to be a fairly honest compliment.

"Not so well as I know your brother, but aye," Viggo admits with his usual boisterous cheer, clicking his tongue to his horse as the slow near the Tyrell man. His dark eyes crinkle at the corners for the compliment, head dipping in agreeable candor for the compliment. "That is me. I still take a turn or two as the mood suits me, although I think there are many a lad that could best me abeast these days. The ladies swoon as they will." At his he winks. Too much time with Ser Storm these days. His recent notoriety is more of the sword, which presently sits by his hat. "You looking to make the ladies swoon?" Dark eyes take in the lances hanging from Loryn's droopy mare, his brows rising at the unspirited position of it.

Loryn pulls a face at the question. "I might like to, but I seem to mostly succeed in making them run for the hills.", the young Tyrell admits, apparently taking a liking to the other man that makes him willing to admit to this. He ponders for a moment, taking in the man and the horse, mostly the horse's state, then looks towards the road leading into the city proper, then back at Viggo. "Ser Brynden should be here soon, but if you're not yet tired, perhaps you'd do the honor to ride against me?", he suggests, "I haven't got much practice in jousting yet."

The younger man's face leads to Viggo's good-natured laughter, the sound warm and inviting. "First rule of ladies, lad. A bit of shine'll do you good, but you need to hold yourself like you're worth it. They want to give a knight their favor, even if he's a squire." Grinning broadly, the Cockshaw man sits easily on the chestnut which comfortably catches its breath after its work out. "Is Ser Brynden running you through your paces? He's a good man." Very good. There is a strong note of approval in Viggo's voice. At Loryn's question, his brows lift in consideration and he looks down at his horse in question. "You got another tilt in you?" He waits a moment, the horse whickering softly, then lifts his shoulders in a shrug. There you have it. "Gladly. If you've got all your gear…" He eyes the bulging bags.

"Yes, I'm squiring for Ser Brynden now.", Loryn confirms, though it doesn't sound very enthusiastic. "He's a good man… letting me do my things on the side. My brother's very intent on me earning my spurs…" As Viggo offers a tilt, he nods and begins to unstrap the two bags, letting them clatter to the ground. One bag contains his practise armour, which he starts putting on rather slowly and fumbly. But finally he's ready, grabs a lance and mounts the horse which has been waiting patiently all the time. "Ready, when you are, Ser.", he smiles.

While Loryn arms himself, Viggo takes the time to water his horse for the upcoming tilt. He gives the other man all the time he needs to prepare and selects a fresh lance for himself. The practice tilt equipment is pulled from the lists by the Cockshaw himself, seeing as his squire has gone and gotten himself knighted. When he remounts his own horse, its with a grin. "Hope you don't regret those words, lad." Sliding on his helmet, he rides to the opposite end of the field so that they may begin.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Loryn=Riding Vs Viggo=riding
< Loryn: Failure Viggo: Good Success
< Net Result: Viggo wins - Solid Victory

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Loryn=riding Vs Viggo=blades
< Loryn: Success Viggo: Failure
< Net Result: Loryn wins - Marginal Victory

The two riders ride… lances tilted against each other… and both lances do connect, though Loryn fails to make a proper impact on the other man's chest. Viggo's lance hits home though, splintering, and almost pushing Loryn from the saddle. "Wow", he mutters, a little shaken, but obviously not so shaken he wouldn't be ready to tilt again

It isn't enough of an impact to unhorse Viggo, but it is solid enough to cause the Cockshaw man to grunt. His own lance breaks at the tip as it connects with Loryn. Driving past the Tyrell, he wheels around at the end of the run with a grin. One unseen due to his helmet. "Well ridden. Again?" He wonders, collecting another lance as he lacks a squire.

"Certainly!", Loryn agrees, his own grin invisible as well, "Almost got you there, didn't I?" Well, that may be a little cocky, but still, the Tyrell goe sto help himself to another lance as well and gets ready to ride again.

"Was it you that almost got me?" Viggo wonders, checking the line of his lance as he retakes his seat with a certain confidence. So done, he sets himself up to ride again and with an agreeable nod to Loryn begins again.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Loryn=Riding Vs Viggo=riding
< Loryn: Good Success Viggo: Good Success
< Net Result: Loryn wins - Marginal Victory

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Loryn=blades Vs Viggo=riding
< Loryn: Success Viggo: Good Success
< Net Result: Viggo wins - Marginal Victory

Loryn does ride again, this time landing a better blow on the other man's chest. He can't resist a little whoop under his visor, even though he can't dodge the other lance himself and gets a little rattled in his armor. He slows his horse down to catch his breath and inspect the lance which hasn'T broken and can be reused. "Come on, third time's the charm!", he calls out.

Head down and arm steady, Loryn's better ride is enough to lessen the impact of Viggo's blow with this turn. He connects, but not as solidly as before. "If you seek to be introduced to the earth so strongly, I'll not argue!" Viggo answers merrily, saluting the other man with his lance.

Loryn laughs. "Well, maybe it'll be you who meets the earth.", he issues his challenge and turns his horse around to ride one more time.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Loryn=Riding Vs Viggo=riding
< Loryn: Good Success Viggo: Good Success
< Net Result: Loryn wins - Marginal Victory
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Loryn=blades Vs Viggo=riding
< Loryn: Good Success Viggo: Great Success
< Net Result: Viggo wins - Solid Victory

"Aye, what was that?" Viggo wonders casually once he's landed a painfully solid blow on Loryn, the angle of the other man's lance not hitting as hard.

"Well, at least I didn't meet the earth.", Loryn replies, taking off his helmet now, hair all sweaty and sticking to his scalp. He seems rather relieved about that. "Well, you do ride well, Ser Viggo… it's been a challenge to remain ahorse."

"Another day, perhaps?" Viggo suggests with an easy grin, sitting back in his seat. He drops his lance so he give his horse a pat on the neck. "Aye, you'll make a fair seat at a tournament yourself sometime soon. I think," he muses, cocking his head at the Tyrell.

"You think so?", Loryn asks, looking both pleased and hopeful at the news. "Thank you, it was a honor to ride against you. And to stay ahorse.", he adds with a wink, nudging his horse closer so that he can offer Viggo a hand to shake.

"Aye. There's something to be made of you yet, if you devote enough time to it." Bruises first, excellence later. "I'll look forward to riding against you again, Lad," Viggo says, meeting Loryn's hand with a hearty clap. "For now, I'll leave you the field so that your Ser can get some training in. Offer him my regards, if you will."

"I will, thank you, Ser Viggo." For now Loryn dismounts though, giving his horse a chance to drink, while he peels himself out of his training armor to chill a little and gather his strength again before he's subjected to intense sparring later.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License