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Post by Prince Geralt Gardener on Aug 11, 2017 21:50:30 GMT
Prince Geralt chose a relatively flat field along the shore of the God' Eye for his duel with Prince Theon Hoare, a few miles away from Harrenhal, though the rising sun cast the castle's long shadows over it. He awaited at dawn with his second Ser Garrett Costayne, his wife, a maester, and whichever of his kin had elected to attend, intentionally keeping the matter of honor a small intimate affair as was proper. He was clad in his white plate, chased with greed enamel, Vigilance at his side and a white shield displaying the green hand of House Gardener in hand. His horse was tied up within sight, the knight not intending to stick around long afterwards if he slew the Ironborn prince. He had a feeling that would put quite the damper on the tourney.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 11, 2017 21:57:25 GMT
He hears hundreds of people humming the tune to the Gates of the Hightower as they ride to the site, their journey followed by hundreds who wish to see the men fight. The rivermen are eager for there to be a slaughter, the ironborn to make sure their prince fights, the commoners to see if Alyssa would save the one who had deflowered her with tears and song. Others just see a chance to watch a royal bleed.
King Grayson leaned in to whisper to his son. "Keep him alive, no matter how foolish he gets," he said quietly. "Everyone knows this is a lamb being led to slaughter."
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Post by King Theon IV Hoare on Aug 11, 2017 21:59:52 GMT
The Prince arrived with his vaguely identified entourage of various nobles, the first Ironborn maester he could find, and only wore protective leather, as he doubted anything heavier would do anything but make him easier to hit.
He drew his sword, kissed the blade for luck, and waited with it ready. He didn't have anything pithy to say.
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Post by Mychel Mallister on Aug 11, 2017 22:03:07 GMT
Mychel is there in his chain mail, with both of his axes bouncing against his thighs abs he walked. He has an amused smile and is humming along with those signing the new song that was created for this incident.
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Post by Lady Alyssa Hightower on Aug 11, 2017 22:04:36 GMT
Alyssa just wanted this whole thing to be over.
"That is who this is over?" Her sister asked next to her, wrinkling her nose as she looked at theon. She had weighed up not standing with her sister, but decided if eyes were not on the right they'd be on her reaction, so she decided to sand where people would see her. "Well you lucked out with Geralt then if he was your alternative."
Alyssa ignored her, as usual and watched her husband,
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Post by King Perceon IV Gardener on Aug 11, 2017 22:05:03 GMT
Prince Perceon was behind his brother and father, letting the two warriors speak ahead of the fight. He was not garbed for combat himself, sporting a tunic of the gardener colors, but he did carry a sword at his side that he expected would prove about as useful in the affair as Theon's. He paid no heed to those humming the lewd tune, keeping his expression stony and his eyes forward on the backs of his brother and father.
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Post by Naomi Harlaw on Aug 11, 2017 22:05:31 GMT
Standing in the crowd of Ironborn, Naomi waits to sees if Theon is going to make it, though the odds were doubtful. Was no one here taking bets on this?
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Post by Princess Melissa Gardener on Aug 11, 2017 22:08:09 GMT
Melissa slipped in at the back. She hadn't been sure whether it was appropriate or not, so she had put on simple clothing that did not advertise her status, and piled her hair up inside a jaunty, feathered hat. She felt that whatever happened, this would be an important day in the history of her house, and she did so hate to miss important events that might one day go down in history.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 11, 2017 22:08:19 GMT
King Harmund rides out, his son Erik with him, the younger man angry looking, ready for blood, a warrior like Theon is a scholar. Haradras Harlow and Morgan Drumm and dozens of others are with them, and even some curious folk from the other kingdoms. None of the Targaryen party was present, but Alexandra sees Prince Kyle. The north similarly doesn't attend to show respect to the combatants' privacy, but nearly everyone else is there, and the lyrics to the song are repeated louder and louder, mixed in with the Dornishman's Wife and Trimming the Garden.
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Post by Prince Geralt Gardener on Aug 11, 2017 22:12:04 GMT
Geralt did not answer his father, stone-faced as his squire handed him his greathelm and he donned it, closing the visor and turning to face Prince Theon. As far as he was concerned no further words were needed. Talk had begun this dispute and steel would end it.
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Post by King Theon IV Hoare on Aug 11, 2017 22:24:13 GMT
1d100+50Heun5GyZ
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Post by Prince Geralt Gardener on Aug 11, 2017 22:30:38 GMT
One Handed Swords: 80+10 (from VS)
Strength 40
Stamina 40
Shield
Plate Armor
4eCihfJM
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 11, 2017 22:34:13 GMT
Theon does better than most assume at first, his cleverness enabling him to avoid several attacks. He is more agile in leather than his opponent is in plate but the difference is beyond negligible. After he gets chased around for twenty seconds or so, Prince Geralt's sword carves a deep gash into his ribs.
Theon takes 14 damage, -7 to rolls, -5 to rolls now for exhausting stamina.
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Post by King Theon IV Hoare on Aug 11, 2017 23:21:21 GMT
Theon finally raises his hand in supplication and said as calmly as he can manage. "I yield. I yield."
Theon stands tall, not letting the deep cut distract him. and lowers his blade. Then he calls out, "I yield... And apologize... I assumed you already knew..." He let the word hang in the air while he caught his breath. "I was wrong... And I apologize... For my behavior at dinner." He sheathed his brother's blade.
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Post by Prince Willem Lannister on Aug 11, 2017 23:28:22 GMT
Willem Lannister had attended the duel to see what what fist the Ironborn prince would make of his fight with one of the best knights in the Reach. He wasn't impressed, but he remained impassive as the farce played out. He muttered to Jaymes Reyne that the whole affair seemed somewhat manufactured.
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Post by Prince Geralt Gardener on Aug 11, 2017 23:34:47 GMT
Geralt rested the point of blade on the reaver's throat, dropping his shield and raising his visor with the other hand so he could look Theon in the eyes. He had not even broken a sweat.
"Even had I known, that would not have excused your words," he spat, sorely tempted to press the blade into his throat and watch him choke on his own blood. "No man will deem to tell me where I can and can't bring my wife. If you speak to her again, if you cast a glance in her direction, you will face me this field again and I find me without mercy."
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Post by King Theon IV Hoare on Aug 12, 2017 0:26:35 GMT
Theon spoke in a low, calm but serious voice. "You do realize I'm going to see her in a few hours. And tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. And so on until you leave. And then months or years later, I will see her again, likely in the company of your father or brother. Because this..." He gestured at the gathered nobility watching. "...is far bigger than some love triangle. You've already received your apology. Now put the toy away, enjoy the games I left out for you to play, and let the adults get back to work. Because this bit of fun... is over."
And then he turned away to return to his family, hands nowhere near his sword.
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Post by Mychel Mallister on Aug 12, 2017 0:30:01 GMT
Mychel on seeing the poor showing that his prince portrayed felt that the kingdom needed a bit better of a representation. He calls over to the second of Prince Geralt, "Now why don't we give it a shot. Same rules and everything, I think it would be a shame if all these people gathered to just watch your Prince bully an ex-maester who has had his nose in a book for far longer then we have held steel against worthy adversaries." He says with a glint in his eye. "For sportsmanlike spectacle and friendly camaraderie, to start off the events of the Tournament." He adds with an exaggerated shrug.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 12, 2017 0:43:21 GMT
Theon spoke in a low, calm but serious voice. "You do realize I'm going to see her in a few hours. And tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. And so on until you leave. And then months or years later, I will see her again, likely in the company of your father or brother. Because this..." He gestured at the gathered nobility watching. "...is far bigger than some love triangle. You've already received your apology. Now put the toy away, enjoy the games I left out for you to play, and let the adults get back to work. Because this bit of fun... is over." And then he turned away to return to his family, hands nowhere near his sword. The Ironborn he returns to turn their backs At the prince, shamed by his display. A duel was to end in death or yielding, not a surrender disguised as bravado. As he walks back, a sudden burning pain in his ribs begins, and a crackling sound can be heard, blood popping and spitting, and Theon feels a burning sensation unlike any he's ever imagined, spreading through his body. His uncle Erik screams, his battlefield voice rising above the din of disapproval. "Poison!" Within seconds the heir to Harrenhal is writhing and squirming on the ground. |
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Post by King Perceon IV Gardener on Aug 12, 2017 0:55:59 GMT
Not knowing his brother to be one who would ever employ poison and quickly grasping who might benefit from pitting house Hoare against house Gardener, Perceon immediately began to scan the crowd to see where the Dornish had located themselves, if any were present.
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Post by Lady Alyssa Hightower on Aug 12, 2017 1:26:00 GMT
Alyssa did the same, looking for anyone who might have been able to deliver a poison, because it had not been her husband who had done this.
Observation 60
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Alyssa pointed at one if the Maesters, the one Geralt brought probably, used to dealing with them. "see to the prince"
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Post by Naomi Harlaw on Aug 12, 2017 1:33:53 GMT
Naomi pushes through the crowd,"Move... Move..." She sat beside him, watching him writhe in pain, she then looked at his family and the rest of the Ironborn crowd. The blood didn't bother her as she rested a hand on him.
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Post by Prince Willem Lannister on Aug 12, 2017 1:38:43 GMT
Willem had been amused when the Ironborn had turned their back on the Prince, but his amusement turned to concern when the young Prince collapsed. As cries of 'poison' went up, he reflected that the seaech for a culprit would be soon be on. The Gardener Prince would be the first and prime suspect, but it wouldn't have surprised Willem, if it were members of King Harmund's own court. Theon wasn't exactly the epitome of how many of the Ironborn saw themselves.
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Post by Lord Daeron Blacktyde on Aug 12, 2017 2:02:24 GMT
Lord Daeron had watched the fight unfold with a stony silence, staring at his prince. When the man collapsed and the call of poison rang out, the giant in plate shoves his way into the clearing and advances towards Prince Geralt, axe and shield in hand. "Surrender or declare yourself guilty."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Aug 12, 2017 12:31:47 GMT
"Was the Dornish!" A voice called out, and the sudden shift in blame seems convenient, but is all the crowd needs to begin their riot. "Blacktyde! Protect your prince!" Erik Hoare growled. Some of the Ironborn leave, indifferent to the prince's plight, convinced he had dishonored them by his performance, others form a reluctant wall.
Darryn Wyl is the first to suffer a form of mob justice, the young Dornish knight seeing where the wind is blowing and moving out, when a knife rams into his gut, and a skin of wine falls from his inside pocket. "Poison!" Someone else called, and he is fallen upon with brutality, never mind that he had arrived after the duel had even started. The crowd begins dissolving as dozens of soldiers begin arriving from everywhere to disperse them, and the crowd nearest the duellists forms up into its little factions, the noncombatants being sent to the center of the walls of shields and swords. Someone surreptitiously hands Melissa a blade, knowing now isn't the time for appearances to be the [rime determinant of who gets a means of protecting oneself.
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Post by King Perceon IV Gardener on Aug 12, 2017 15:28:54 GMT
Perceon drew his own blade figuring it better to die with blade in hand than as a whimpering coward, if it came to it.
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Post by Princess Melissa Gardener on Aug 12, 2017 19:12:06 GMT
Melissa took the sword and immediately ran forward to join her father and brother Perceon. She wanted to be with them, facing trouble together.
"We must help Geralt, make sure he's not harmed," she declared. "He'd never stoop to poison."
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Post by King Perceon IV Gardener on Aug 12, 2017 19:47:16 GMT
Perceon had had the same thought, but had immediately been boxed in by the various knights and lords around his father, with them all knowing how useful he would prove in a fight. "We can fight our way to Geralt, but we should do so with our numbers." He shouted to his sister, hoping he would be heard over the din.
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Post by Princess Melissa Gardener on Aug 12, 2017 20:22:30 GMT
"I agree," she called back. "Let's do it together. For House Gardener."
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Post by Mychel Mallister on Aug 12, 2017 21:36:46 GMT
Mychel goes from casually trying to challenge the legendary knight to rampaging across the yard towards the Dornish gentlemen Wyl. Though he wasn't sure if the man was innocent or not, he wasn't a big fan of letting anyone face mob justice and miss the opportunity to miss his King's justice. He strikes down any peasant rabble that seems to have joined the riot in an attempt to stop the thing from spreading too fast.
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