(122-12-28) Duel: Maiden Knight vs Scorpion
Duel: Maiden Knight vs Scorpion
Summary: Things are escalating, when Daevon Targaryen and Manfryd Qorgyle engage in a duel, to decide some accusations brought forth by the Maiden Knight.
Date: 28/12/2015 (Date of RP)
Related: Recent Manfryd logs.
Players:
Daevon..Manfryd..Rhaegor..Lara..Desmond..Miranda..Jonel..Leandro..

Tourney Grounds - The Reach


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.


Prince Daevon had just finished up a spar with a guardsman, so there had been people around to observe the moment that the Scorpion approached the Maiden Knight. Words were said, then Daevon accused Manfryd of threatening and abusing women, raping and drugging those that he should be protecting - claims and allegations made from heaping mad Maiden Knight and denounced rather calmly by the Scorpion. No matter the source behind it, someone went running off to gossip of the duel the moment that Manfryd declared he had to take an honourable approach to the accusations to meet Daevon in duel. This, is where the story commences…

Manfryd was settled down into a stance with spear in hand, Daevon with sword in his. The terms were not made to blood. It could be that it will be to the death, by the look on Daevon's face. Someone was going to meet their maker this day. Or perhaps, mercy would reign. As it is, as people start to flock to see the outcome, Manfryd and Daevon have already come to blows, neither landing a solid hit - weapons bouncing off armor.

Daevon's in full plate, shield in one hand, sword in the other, facing down Manfryd. There's absolutely none of the calm he displays at tourneys, not so much of the precision either. Utterly furious, he's all bubbling rage. The moment he gets an indication that Manfryd's ready he charges at the man, and slams his sword against the other man's helmet, in a blow that's fortunately soaked by armor.

<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword but Manfryd DODGES!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Daevon will attack Manfryd this turn. Options: called=head

Desmond comes rushing down to the Tourney grounds, having heard rumors of a duel between the Maiden's Knight and the Scorpion. He is unarmored, but armed. For such a large man, the Northerner moves with violent speed. He shoves his way through the budding crowd of observers, staring at the combatants with clenched fists. He seems incredulous, horrified, by the rage that Daevon expresses, watching the Maiden's Knight fight. "Center of the storm!" he shouts out. "You're the center of the storm! Calm!"

<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword but Manfryd DODGES!
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear but Daevon DODGES!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear but Daevon DODGES!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Desmond=intimidation Vs Daevon=presence
< Desmond: Good Success Daevon: Success
< Net Result: Desmond wins - Marginal Victory

Daevon's paying absolutely no attention to anything but his opponent. He keeps hacking at Manfryd, pushing his attack forward furiously. He misses. He keeps pushing on. He sidesteps a swing of the spear and again his own attack doesn't connect. Light as a dancer on his feet, in spite of the plate he's in, he swerves to avoid the oncoming spear and hacks at Manfryd's chest, a grazing blow thanks to armor. First blood. He doesn't look ready to stop yet.

This match is blistering fast. The movements of parrying and attacking are done rapid form. Manfryd reads the intent into many of the Maiden Knight's swings, able to dodge and step out of the way before he can get an inch too close. The agile spear fighter is not having much more success in the way it starts off, spear clattering against armor that seems impossible to navigate with a spear for choice of weapon. People would be wise to bet on the dragon wearing full plate armor! Manfryd is thrusting out his spear, twirling it to parry blows, using it to leap from one area to the next - it may not be a Braavo water dance, but it was a Dornish sand dance that's for sure. He showed prowess and ability. The shout from the side lines garners his attention, for a hair of a second - and that's all it takes for Daevon to cut his way inside of Manfryd's defenses. The sword claws down his chest and he jumps back from it, feeling the heat of the blade. Manfryd grunts, lowering to reverse bow and attacking.

Lara Gargalen is here as well, a rather un-Dornish looking cloak wrapped about her gown of blue sandsilk, her black hair to the most part covered by the hood of the cloak. Dark eyes flit to Desmond as he offers advice to the Maiden Knight, but only briefly, as Lara's gaze is soon on her Scorpion, her complexion slightly flushed from the exciting spectacle. No yelling or calling necessary on her part, when her presence alone should be encouragement enough for Ser Manfryd Qorgyle. A slight flinch though ripples through her slender frame in the moment Daevon's sword connects - this more due to excitement than real concern.

<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - ARMOR on Head stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - Light wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

Someone comes up behind Lara, to watch the duel from the sidelines in her company. It's Rhaegor Targaryen, who rode in on horseback after the melee had already begun — word took time to reach him at Dragon Door Manse, but reach him it did. "Lara," he says to her in greeting, his eyes tracking the movements of the duelers on the field.

Desmond breathes in. Breathes out. Slowly. He's forcing himself to remain calm, watching the fight intently; his gaze follows every blow and parry with perfect understanding. Breathing more easily now, he makes his way through the crowd to stand beside Lara. It might be considered an odd pairing — the Dornishwoman watching for her Scorpion, the Northern knight watching for the Maiden's Knight. He looks aside at Rhaegor and inclines his head gravely, but it's only an instant; his gaze is quickly back on the fight.

Daevon's fought against Dornish spear fighters before. Some of the best in fact during his various trips to Sunspear. And while he hasn't precisely fought Manfryd, he's had chance to observe his skills. Not that he's thinking of any of this, or thinking of much at all. There's no time for anything than to just be his blade. His full plate's taking the brunt of the blows, those he's too slow to dodge aside from, or to deflect with his shield. He swings hard, a blow glancing off Manfryd's helmet and he just keeps going.

It wasn't as if Manfryd was MISSING, it was the heavy armor on his opponent that kept the spear tip from striking flesh. Repeatedly, as Manfryd took chances to draw himself closer to get more momentum, the blade of the spear popped aside from glancing across armor. A second hit from Daevon's longsword to the head however, backs Manfryd up, as he gives his head a quick shake. His eyes narrowed on Daevon. The fact that Daevon keeps coming at him forces Manfryd to as well. It's clear enough which one of them is more on the defensive footing than the other.

<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear but Daevon DODGES!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - Moderate wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

Lara's head turns when someone approaches from behind, her gaze almost startled until she recognizes Prince Rhaegor Targaryen. "Your highness," is her greeting, offered in a slightly breathless tone. A brief moment of distraction before her eyes shift back to where the duel continues. Steel clashing against steel, where a weapon is stopped by the armor of the one attacked. Desmond earns a curious gaze and a nod in greeting, she has to look up to get a glimpse of his face; her attention then on the Scorpion and the Maiden Knight, as they continue in their martial dance.

Daevon's fast, a whirlwind of movement, he dodges the spear coming at him, and stabs Manfryd in the gut, sharp steel finding a gap in the lighter armor.

Desmond absently lets in a breath as he watches the fight. He breathes out. "There," he murmurs softly to himself. "Go for the feint and lunge. He's on his heels." The huge Northern knight seems to have forgotten Lara and Rhaegor, perhaps forgotten that he's not entirely in the friendly part of the stands, as it were. "You've got him," he mutters. "You've got him. Don't let that thing touch you."

The blade comes away with the Scorpion's blood on it. Manfryd slides back on his foot, blood splattering to the earth beside it. He glances up at Daevon, stealing a glance toward the gathering crowds. His eyes find two that could be there to support him but who knows, at least one will see his body not desecrated. He favours his side, where the sword found weakness in his armor and came out with blood. He heaves a breath, then carries on, mounting a much weaker attack with the wound in his side.

<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear but Daevon DODGES!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - ARMOR on Head stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - ARMOR on Head stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear but Daevon DODGES!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear but Daevon DODGES!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - Light wound to Right Arm (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

Daevon's relentness, untouchable now as he dodges attack after attack, pressing his advantage on the injured man. Another stinging blow hits to Manfryd's arm this time.

Rhaegor glances past Lara to Desmond. There's a nod. But he doesn't offer any commentary on the duel of his own, instead watching in tense silence as Daevon evades the Scorpion's sting.

A glare is shot Desmond's way in the moment he continues to murmur his advice to Daevon, even if it cannot reach him across the field, a glare of dark eyes that narrow just so. The Cockatrice seems slightly displeased, her gaze darting to where Manfryd receives wound after wound; catching his brief glance, the corners of her lips curl upwards, her hand undoing the clasp of her cloak. "I shouldn't hide like that… I'm here to bring him luck…", she murmurs, only for those two beside her to hear. The cloak drops to the ground, revealing Lara Gargalen in her blue sandsilk gown, her long black hair falling about her shoulders in an untamed manner. "SCORPION!!!", she yells.

Daevon's completely ignoring Desmond's advice. He doesn't seem to be paying the slightest bit of attention to it.

Manfryd does what he can to block the blows that come at him. The wound to the side however, is starting to get to him. He takes another hit as he's pressed back, glancing around to see if there was anything to give him purchase or advantage. Finding nothing he considers Daevon, spitting out through his teeth, "I deny the charges!" Then he lunges again.

<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - NEAR MISS!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Manfryd will attack Daevon this turn. Options: called=Chest
<COMBAT> Daevon will attack Manfryd this turn. Options: called=abdomen

Manfryd's hollar to deny the charges brought against him were answered almost immediately by a strike against the dragon. It was as if the gods listened and curried favour toward him in that instant. The spear tip showed a bit of blood on it as the point drove through the heavy plate, finally, as if Manfryd emptied his efforts into the strike. He pants heavily now, the droplets of blood following him around as his one pant leg looks completely wet. The hollar for support has him straighten his back just a bit against the queasiness starting to build up from the wound.

That didn't sound like a yield, and so Daevon continues onwards. He unfortunately falls for a feint, his own blow missing and takes a spear to the chest. Daevon doesn't even react to the wound, continuing on.

<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Daevon will attack Manfryd this turn. Options: called=abdomen
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear but Daevon DODGES!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Manfryd will attack Daevon this turn.
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - Light wound to Left Arm (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Manfryd has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Manfryd spends a luck point to keep fighting!

"YES!", Lara exclaims, in the moment that Dornish spear connects and pierces at least in part through the armor. "You can do it." A brief sideways glance shot Rhaegor's way, after all his relative got nicked by a spear tip.

<COMBAT> Manfryd will attack Daevon this turn.
<COMBAT> Manfryd will attack Daevon this turn. Options: called=neck
<COMBAT> Manfryd has changed stance to Banzai.

Daevon barely seems winded by that scratch. He keeps pushing onwards, landing a glancing blow to Manfryd's other arm, injuries that are surely adding up.

<COMBAT> Daevon will attack Manfryd this turn. Options: called=abdomen

Desmond shrugs faintly, apologetically, toward Lara, but he's not taking his eyes off the fight. He chews his lip as Daevon's armor is pierced, though it seems nothing more than a graze. He does stop muttering, but now his hands are balled into fists. But seeing Daevon continue on, apparently unfazed, the huge man relaxes. "No poison," he whispers to himself. This time, it's not commentary. It's prayer.

Daevon has the advantage. It's easy to see. Manfryd is slightly bowed toward the injury along his abdomen. Yet, the Scorpion is not giving up. He grits his teeth against the welts that dash across both arms, chest, and is blinking through the trickle of blood down his face from the earlier head shot that has been aggravated by each blunted hit to his helm. The last hit to his arm he nearly drops the spear, has to set back a few paces, then grunts at Daevon. The Scorpion is hurt but he's still standing and means to attack again.

<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear but Daevon DODGES!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - Light wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - Light wound to Left Leg (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!

That mutter draws Lara's attention, her head turns and her dark eyes focus on the huge man beside her. A glance is shot where the two opponents continue to fight. "No poison…" This less of a prayer but a statement. Uttered with a hint of regret.

<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - ARMOR on Right Hand stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - ARMOR on Neck stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear - ARMOR on Neck stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Daevon attacks Manfryd with Longsword - Moderate wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Manfryd attacks Daevon with Spear and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Manfryd has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

Daevon doesn't actually press the advantage when Manfryd staggers to the ground. He gives the man a moment to rise to his feet and regrip his weapon before he follows up with a quick serious of attacks, through his defences to that same spot in the abdomen, and then a blow to the left leg. Now he's noticed the point of weakness he works to it, making a feint up high and then yet again striking the same spot.

Manfryd was aiming for that soft meaty part between head and shoulders - the other's neck. Several times the spear clangs against the armor on the neck, glancing by without finding purchase. It costs Manfryd dearly for that attempt. More of his blood gets spilled on the tournament grounds, before the pretty boy. He's unable to keep a hollar back as he's twice sliced in the same spot, causing the wound to go deeper and further. The leather keeps his guts bound inside thankfully. He stumbles back and regards Daevon, who seems intent on finishing this. What is the Scorpion to do? He doesn't beg for his life. Not yet, not while he's still standing. Not while he has blood left in his body, breath in his lungs.

Desmond turns aside to Lara. "Tell him to yield," he urges suddenly, softly. He nods out to the duel. "He's defeated. Tell him to yield, Lady."

And while Manfryd's still standing, still holding his spear, Daevon continues to attack.

Lara watches, her hands clenched to fists, cheeks flushed, breath going a little heavier than normal. And even if the spectacle is too captivating for her to avert her eyes, even she realizes that the Maiden Knight has undoubtedly the upper hand. Her gaze shifts to Manfryd, watching him, perhaps wondering if he will allow reason to prevail over his heated Scorpion ways. But then… such would be rather unlikely. She lowers her eyes when Desmond addresses her. Then looks up and calls: "Scorpion! Enough. For today. You'll defeat him certainly. Next time!"

Someone called out to him. In the haze of being bled of blood and facing the angry wrath of the Maiden Knight, the Scorpion realizes the one singular voice in the crowd that didn't want to see him gutted. His jaw flexes as he sees Daevon coming for him again. His arms come up just enough to get the shaft of the spear up to block and deflect the attack, grunting to push Daevon aside long enough that he can slide down onto his knees. His arm wraps to hold the wound, while the other holds the spear upright, butt dug into the sand and using it to keep himself from toppling over complete. "I yield…" Now as terms weren't agreed too, Manfryd keeps a wary eye on Daevon. Should the man refuse the yield he'd be back up on his feet in an instant to die fighting.

Miranda's frown is visible as she hurries over to the tourney grounds, having heard the news of the duel. The septa is free of young charges THIS time around but still wears a concerned look on her face as she joins the crowds. "Warrior grant mercy," she says softly as she sees the extent of the damage on the Dornishman's face- her hand resting on her seven-pointed star at her breast.

Ser Daevon Targaryen, the Maiden's Knight, and Ser Manfryd Qorgyle, the Scorpion, were engaged in battle. Ser Daevon's in his full plate's, barely got a scratch on him, while Manfryd in his lighter armour is bleeding heavily, and yet somehow still conscious. Manfryd just yielded.

Desmond nods appreciatively to Lara, then turns his attention back to the fight. His huge hands ball into fists. When he looks at Manfryd, there is an expression bordering on pleasure — but he's still tense, watching Daevon. As the Scorpion yields, he tenses further, leaning forward.

"There will be no next time," Daevon almost growls, still holding his sword. "You understand that. There will be no more attempts to destroy the peace we're trying to build here. From this point on, if you live, you will start working with us, not against us. No more poisonings. No more rapes. No more attacking people weaker than yourself. You are not fit to call yourself a Knight." It's echoing the words that started all of this. "You can die here and now, or you can have the chance to change that."

As the battle draws to a close, a man on a painted destrier arrives at the tournament grounds, his crop of firery red hair easy to spot, and his subdued cloth with chains of office likely marks him as some import. Hand on the hilt of his sword- Jonel Costayne likely doesn't stand out. A look is given the guardsman with him as he rides closer. No interrupting here.

Lara sees the septa and offers her a respectful if slightly distracted nod of greeting. Desmond's approval for her verbal intervention is noted, his pleasure perhaps less so, as her gaze shifts to linger on Manfryd. When the Maiden Knight spits out his counter, the Cockatrice straightens, her brows furrowing as she hears the accusations. "Lies! The Scorpion does not rape," she states coldly, even if there is a slight tremble in her tone. "And you have to admit, that the odds were not quite even. But rather unfair, if you choose to fight in your plate while he wears his lighter armor, Maiden Knight!" Interrupting. With fullest conviction.

Desmond breathes out as Daevon accepts the yield, relaxing slightly. But there's still boundless tension within the huge Northron. He glances aside at Rhaegor as Daevon speaks, his gaze measuring, almost cold. As if he's reading the Scourge of Qarth's reaction to the Maiden Knight's words. And then his attention turns to Lara. "It was all true," the huge Northerner says. He's surprisingly gentle. "Every word he says is true, Lady." A beat. "I'm sorry." He looks out to Manfryd and Daevon.

Manfryd clenches his jaw at Daevon's words. The accusations that are made again, have the Scorpion bristling. If he only had a body that didn't want to give over and fail him, he'd continue to fight. His hand clenches the spear, as if preparing to attack. But really, his hand is keeping him up, his arm is shaking and his lean is becoming more visible to the naked eye. He suffers the indignity of those words, his head lowering as he half closes his eyes.

Miranda gives Lara quick nod back but her attention also shifts back to the fight. "You say the words are a lie but he does not deny it," she replies softly, looking as if she is trembling at the scene. "He needs a maester or I fear he may bleed to death."

"Rape is anathema to the Dornish." Rhaegor's words are flat. He doesn't meet Desmond's gaze, even as he senses it pointed his way. He may not demonstrate Lara's passionate conviction in his own speech, may not yell out as others do from the sidelines. But his words are as authoritative as Desmond's, when he claims It was all true.

"I want your Oath," Daevon says, his words ice. "You will swear this, on whatever you most hold dear, or I will kill you."

And that's the answer he'd been looking for. Desmond's own expression turns bleak as he hears Rhaegor's words, hard and graven with deep lines — for once, looking his age. The Northman doesn't speak, but as Daevon demands an oath the Snow Giant turns away from the scene, his eyes on the others in the crowd, hand touching the hilt of his sword lightly. Perhaps it just happens to come to rest there. He waits.

Jonel falls silent as he looks towards Daevon and then back towards Manfryd. It is now that the Castellan speaks up. "Was that the condition of the duel. Ser Prince?" this called out in a clear voice from Jonel. Its a voice used to directing Court. "If not and this man has yielded, I would refrain from such rhetoric." Law and all. Still Jonel doesnt draw steel or ask for anymore clarification. Perhaps his is a voice of advice?

Manfryd grips the shaft of the spear higher, "I will…," he coughs a little, the pool of blood getting larger around him, the sand of the tournament absorbing as much as it can, but he stops when he hears Jonel's voice calling out over their duel. Who was that? Right then it really didn't matter as he starts to slide against the spear, the weapon abruptly dropped and the Scorpion doing some slumping over.

Lara shoots Rhaegor a glance, relief evident in her demeanour when this Targaryen Prince speaks up and somewhat sides with the Scorpion. She has said all there is to say, and so she moves to kneel briefly, to gather her cloak that lies at her feet, rising then and wrapping the garment about her, drawing the hood over her long black curls. Her arms crossing then before her as she observes in silence. "Wait…", she offers in a soft murmur towards Miranda. "You can tend to him, in a moment. But this is a matter…" Her words die on her lips as the Qorgyle collapses, and she hurries towards him.

Miranda continues to clutch at her seven-pointed star as she looks on. She lets out a small gasp of surprise as he drops into the bloody earth. "Someone fetch the maester," the young septa cries out again as she follows on Lara's heels. "I don't know how much good I can do."

Daevon's a very angry Knight with a very sharp sword, which is still pointed at Manfryd. "He challenged me. He said to the death. He's not dead yet. Now I want his Oath." The 'I will' seems to suffice for him though. "There. He agrees. Someone get him a Maester."

"No, he didn't," hisses Lara Gargalen towards the Maiden Knight, giving him a glare. "Now, will you kill me as well for refusing you to get away with this? To claim he admitted a thing he DID NOT DO???" She spits out, saliva hitting the ground before Daevon, and that is all she has to spare for him right now. Falling on her knees now beside the Scorpion, leaving enough room for the septa though.

Jonel frowns given the conflicting offers. A glance is given towards Lara and the Dornishman, before he is bodily riding to come between both. "As Castellan and Protector of this town and of my Lord's holdings I cannot in good honor or faith allow this to continue further." Jonel states as his hand remains on his sword. "If you wish to debate it later or bring it before the Court then you may. Otherwise let is hold off on oaths-till your enemy and vanquished can speak better?" apparently passing put doesnt suss his test. "Well fought." is all he passes for the duel. Whether true or not.

"Go now," Rhaegor tells the septa, when Manfryd loses his footing and slumps before the Maiden's Knight. The Hightower Castellan's arrival is at just the right time, intervening at the precise moment the Scorpion stands between life and death, and all at Daevon's mercy. He does not himself intervene, perhaps on account of the presence of the law, but serves as silent witness from the sidelines.

Miranda tears at some of the Dornishman's looser cloth and presses it to Lara's hands. "Keep your hands tightly pressed, my lady, do not let him loose more blood." She rises and bows her head to Rhaegor and hurries off without arguement, running sprightly for a septa - her youth a clear benefit in this case.

Desmond stares flatly at Rhaegor. "Your cousin told the truth, Your Grace," he tells the Targaryen knight. His voice is cold iron and thick with the Northern burr that emerges whenever emotion gets the better of him. He shakes his head faintly. "Perhaps you should ask yourself why none of us thought you would care." There's something in his voice. Disappointment? Turning to look up at Jonel for a moment, Desmond walks to stand beside Daevon. He looks down at the wounded Manfryd, then leans to whisper something softly to the Maiden's Knight.

"Yes he did." Daevon states to Lara. But he does step aside to let her close to the fallen Manfryd. At what Miranda starts to do he frowns but he doesn't speak up, instead he steps further away. Whatever Desmond says has him frowning too. There's barely a nod of acknowledgement to Jonel.

The Castellan watches Daevon and Desmond for a moment as a brow raisea, but the Costayne remains mum. Instead he stays resolute in his placement. "The truth of the matter is either settled or not- if you wish to bicker over it, then do so elsewhere. Allow this knight fallen hos care-Then you can press any claims of oaths." A glance back to the other Targaryen and he shifts in his saddle. "You may all disperse now." more of an order than a request. Jonel looks back to his lone guardsman. "Peytr please see if you can retrieve a maester." No make haste. He is ever the grey admist these tempers.

Miranda is already on her way to fetch one, having missed the Maiden Knight's frown in her urgency. Her retreating figure is easy to spy as crowds tend to get out of the way for the Faith, especially one in a dire hurry.

Lara meanwhile presses the offered piece of cloth against the most atrocious looking wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Not gracing Daevon nor Desmond with the faintest attention, as she is focusing on the Scorpion, for now.

Miranda does not have to travel far; being near the Citadel does have some benefit. She is followed by a black-robed man bearing the chains which designate he is qualified to attend to the injured Scorpion. He and the septa pause and bow their heads to the princes before the maester kneels and sets about his work. The septa keeps her gaze downcast at the tourney sand below her sandled feet as she quietly prays.

When the Maester arrives, Lara shifts to make room for him, her dark eyes lingering then on the Scorpion's face, as her lips start moving as well, in silent prayer.

Jonel surveys the scene and with the parties mostly dispersing, the Castellan moves his horse now, to continue along his way. A hard line instead of a smile on his lips. Likely this is not the last he will hear of this incident.

Desmond nods approvingly as Miranda calls for a Maester. He looks up for a moment at the gathering, then sighs and turns toward Daevon. "You were hurt," he says quietly. "Do you need stitches?"

Daevon nods at Jonel. He's not particularly in the mood to talk. He's still angry, frustrated even at everything that's happened. Once he sees the Maester approaching Manfryd he begins to walk away. Heading home perhaps. He shakes his head at Desmond. "Not hurt."

The healer takes over and nods absently to Lara before he sets about his task, staunching the flow and checking just how much consciousness the Dornishman has. Soon enough, a litter is brought over to move him off the field of battle and to a safer place to be seen to. The septa stands aside and lets them do their duties although she does try to make observation for her own education.

Desmond follows after Daevon like an overgrown hound, just at his heel. He casts worried glances at the man, his expression growing more dismayed as he walks.

Manfryd's putty in the hands of whoever has got a hold on him. He's out because of the loss of blood, though when hands are pressed on him and the like, one might get to hear the odd grunt and unconscious murmurs.


Healer's Hall - The Citadel


The Healer's Hall of the Citadel is a long building with a high arched roof. It is only a single story, perhaps to spare the necessity of carrying injured or ill people up and down stairs. The corridors are very wide, and floors are made of broad smooth flagstones, polished by generations of feet. The plastered walls are lime-washed to a dull, clean white. There is very little decoration. Even the golden-oak doorframes are simple, and their color is faded with frequent scrubbings.

The long hall is lined with many doors. They're unevenly spaced — some lead to large hospital wards with many beds, some to smaller and more private sickrooms, and some to laboratories, workrooms, and libraries of various sizes.


"What do you mean Dornish Maester," Leandro's muttering to another Maester. "There are no Dornish maesters. Fuck that. Just because they're Dornish doesn't mean it has to be me. Fine. Fine…" he's not quiet as he awaits the arrival of their patient. "You're taking my night shift."

Lara Gargalen had followed after the litter, her hands folded before her and her gaze lowered. She is in the infirmary now, standing beside the bed upon which the Scorpion has been placed, her dark gaze lingering on his face; if she is paying attention to any part of the conversation between Leandro and his colleague, does not show.

The young septa has stayed by the side of the Dornish knight out of some kind of obligation or concern. She is clearly - not- Dornish and is likely a Reach girl by her tone of inflection. "That would be my doing, forgive me. I was just talking to Mistress Peri earlier about how good you were with Madrighal and I did not know if he could be… comfortable with another Maester right now. Not with the gossip in the city."

"What's his name?" Leandro asks. "We're going to have to remove his clothing, Septa, so if you want to preserve your modesty, or help, whichever you prefer." He inspects the injuries. "Not as bad as it looks. Doesn't look like anything important's been damaged. Just needs a bit of sewing up, and as long as everything's kept clean he should be right in next to no time. I am a fantastic healer."

Manfryd's eyes open, slowly, as if he could feel the weight of Lara's gaze upon him. His hand twitches and attempts to gesture toward her. Everything else is a blur around him but Lara, Lara was the light that kept him from the Stranger's grasp. He wasn't entirely out of the woods, but right then, he looked at her with such compassion. "Lara, I didn't… I'm not…" talking hurts though, for everything moves with the effort. His eyes roll back closed, mind unable to deal with the shock of his abdomen being ripped open.

"His name is… Ser Manfryd Qorgyle." Lara's gaze settles on the maester. Assessing him, for a moment. "You are Dornish?" Her attention then diverted to the Scorpion as he begins to move and speak. "Hush… I know… All lies, spread by a certain Maiden Knight…", she murmurs, placing her hand on Manfryd's forehead. "You'll be alright."

"They call him the Scorpion," the septa replies. "Ser Manfryd." She nods as the Lady confirms it. "And it's nothing I haven't seen before," Miranda states simply although a blush does slightly rise against her tan face. She rolls back her full grey sleeves and steadies herself to help remove the layers of damaged blood soaked armor.

Leandro hands Lara a flask. "Get him to drink that. It's just a sedative. It'll stop him from moving about. I'm a Maester. We don't get to have loyalties. Citadel first and all of that." Despite having absolutely no bedside manner he does at least know what he's doing. Armor and clothing's removed, for the most part, although he does allow some modesty to be preserved since there's no injuries there. "Manfryd, I need you to drink that."

Miranda works swiftly alongside Leandro and helps remove the bloody things. She's not phased by touching a man, bloody sick patient or otherwise. "All the same, I think he would appreciate it when he wakes…" Or wakes up more. "Hush Ser… rest now, it's over."

The Gargalen lady's fingers close about the flask, while she listens to Leandro's words. She nods, uncorking the flask before she brings it to the Scorpion's lips. "Drink.", she intones softly, "this will dull the pain."

Manfryd's eyes flutter open again at Lara's touch, unclear if her words got through to him or not. The fact that armor is being stripped from him becomes a conscious awareness, a level of panic rising, eyes widening slightly as his mouth moves to make a protest. But that mouth movement allows Lara to put the flask to his lips. And he drinks, as he can, before he turns his face aside. Betweenn Leandro and Miranda, they would find some personal items in between the netting of armor and bloody silken robes; a flask, coin pouch, several daggers, a small wooden box that held seemed to produce little scratching noises from it. They'd be smart to leave his items alone. Still, the box was a curiosity, especially when Manfryd warned Lara with his last breaths before going into darkness, "The box… don't let them.. open…"

Leandro just places everything aside, touching it as little as possible and being wary of poisons. He watches Manfryd, waiting for the potion to take effect. Only once it does does he start to work on cleaning the wounds out properly. Unpacking the cloths that have been pressed against the wounds, loosening them with boiled wine if need be. The ointments he uses burn, cleansing the wound, but extremely painfully so, and at least that stops the bleeding. It's only once it's clean does Leandro get the needle and thread, after washing his own hands again, and then begins to work on stitching up the wound. "You're going to have to keep him from any exercise until this is healed up. Gut wounds are tricky. There's nothing pierced from what I can see. The biggest danger's it getting infected."

Miranda's also cautious of the box, eyeing it as if it's a dangerous animal- which it likely is. As a woman of the Faith she isn't about to rifle through a man's pockets and possessions. Each is carefully set aside and her hands washed once done with the bloody fabrics. She observes Leandro carefully to help with her own studies and hands the supplies as needed, pressure where pressure is needed.

Lara was about to repeat Manfryd's warning in regards to the box, but is relieved to see both Maester and Septa are reasonable enough to keep their curiosity in check. And so she steps aside, observing as Leandro gets to the task of stitching the Scorpion up. "Blessed be the Seven," her low mumured comment to his remark about none of the innards being pierced.

Leandro's sewing is a work of art, a fine line of tiny stitches that pull the wound closed. He certainly makes use of Miranda's skilled hands. He cleans his own hands again, once he's done with the stitching, and then sets to work on the lesser injuries, working quickly and methodically, until he's done. Then it's time for poultices and bandaging. He'll mix up the former, explaining the ingredients, and their purposes. They're pressed onto the wounds. Everything's bandaged up with clean white bandages. "If you keep everything clean. Keep him to bed for a couple of days he should be fine. No exercise, not even the bed sort."

Bed sort of exercise? The young woman looks confused but then it dawns on Miranda. She glances away at that, giving Lara a tiny smile. "And likely he should avoid being anywhere near the Maiden Knight as well…" She adds it although she doesn't think it's entirely necessary to say.

Lara inclines her head. "I shall," she responds, both to Leandro's advice and that of the Septa. Even if one corner of her mouth lifts slightly at the warning against the Maiden Knight. "Of course.", two words that leave her lips in a contemptuous snort. While the reference to exercise of the bed sort, ironically enough, for once seems to be ignored - not even acknowledged with a comment or the faintest twitch of a brow - by the Dornish lady of admittedly scandalous repute.

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