10.11.3013: Tournament of Tomorrow - Joust Event
Summary: The joust event of the Tournament of Tomorrow.
Date: 21 September 2013
Related: Tournament of Tomorrow: Archery Event, Tournament of Tomorrow: Melee Event
Agnes Ashleigh Brienne Chiron Eiris Elodie Erik Jarek Kassandra Lionel Nikomachos Sammel Solon 


Tournament Grounds
Four grand walkways, raised hundreds of meters in the air, come together from the cardinal directions to the colossal center that is the Coliseum of the Fortress of Phylon. It is an expansive promenade that makes up the entire lower level of the citadel-like arcology, round in shape and surrounded by columns from which statues of rearing white horses have been carved out of the lower third of the solid stone. These statues are easily three meters in height each, with the remainder of the smooth column stretching still high above them. A rib vaulted ceiling looms high above, and chandeliers of glowing globes of light float just shy of its arches and spread artificial light across the Coliseum.

Various banners proclaiming the "Tourney for Tomorrow" have been placed throughout the arena, with the occasional sigil of a sponsor house. Specifically, signs for House Cindravale, House Grantham, House Rovehn, and House Leonnida have been given prominence in the arrangements. Grandstands have been raised from recesses in the floor, turning the entirety of the Coliseum into a stadium capable of seating tens of thousands. Hard light generators are emplaced around the ground level to provide the lists and the fenced-in area of the melee at need.

11 October 3013

With the melee having been concluded the focus of the events shifts, moving to the lists where the joust - easily the main event of the tourney - has already been under way for some time. The first round proved to be a warmup for knights and those watching alike, the former showing off their skills with horse and lance alike, while the latter are worked into a frenzy by the time those who are to advance to the next round are named. The volume eventually ebbs but only just enough for the announcer to be heard.

"Wasn't that remarkable? Now, how about we move things right along? The next round will be starting with Lord Sir Erik Ibrahm of Cindravale facing off against Sir Lionel Keats! Let's give them some cheers!"

Lionel Keats enters the lists astride his battered, cybered horse Charmer. The butterscotch-colored destrier has seen enough war to have earned a cybernetic foreleg and a luminous blue eye. There are heavy scars across his nose and neck, though there is no doubt that the horse wears his battle medals with pride. Lionel is in his leonine armor, the golden plates glittering in the Imperius sun. There is a temporary new addition to his armor in the form of a thick twist of vine that twists around his gauntlet with softly curling leaves — a favor from his Arborenin husband, it seems. He has fared well so far, but now he stands against his first Lord. He strides out toward his spot at the lists, raising his lance to the Ibrahm of Cindravale in salute before he starts to adjust his weapon and bring his shield to bear.

"Oh look!" Agnes exclaims. "It's Sir Lionel. GO SIR LIONEL!" she cheers. Another friend who went tromping through hell with them.

Jarek continues to let Agnes be his lungs, giving his normal voiced. "Hurray for Sir Lionel." Then he coughs for a time, getting something to drink by pressing for help on his arm rest and asking the attendant. He motions to Agnes and the man asks if she'd like anything.

It took Erik a little bit of time to get out of his battered armor from the Grand Melee, the protective suit removed slowly as his body is becoming a bit sore. He knows that he won't be the same when Jousting as his body has stiffened up, but having Valen blood in him, there is no way that he is not jousting. Once he is suited up and mounted, the Ibrahm Knight waits for the announcements and that is when he trots his horse to his end of the tilt, waiting for his tourney lance to be handed to him. Gripping it firmly, he looks out to the crowd, searching for his wife and when he finds her in the stands, he shoots her a grin and raises a hand, the same that has her ribbon tied around his wrist. Then, Erik looks across to his opponent, saluting in return before lowering his visor and getting ready for the first pass.

It takes three passes — but only one of Lionel's lances break against the fellow Knight's hard light shield. Charmer has proven to be a good sport in this competition, though he doesn't seem terribly pleased by the constant back and forth. There are awes and winces from the stands in perfect synchronization. After the first pass, Lionel looks up toward the scoreboards to see the results. He grimaces a bit, though it is only because of the low count. Jousts… always a low-scoring game.

Everybody likes a good joust, and everybody in the Vale loves a good joust. Sir Nikomachos Sauveur of Cindravale does his best to put on a good show. He went four passes with his first opponent, shattering four lances before the last hit put the other knight on the ground. Each pass — and each hit — sent up a wash of holographic fire as flaming wings rise from The Phoenician's shoulders. Riding back to his fallen foe, Nikomachos leans from his saddle to offer the knight a hand up to his feet to the cheers of the crowd. Now he waits atop his destrier Erinye, his squire standing by with another lance. A purple hairtie wraps around his right upper arm, the only indication of his new Sauveur name and his new Sauveur wife. He cheers for his brother and his friend at each pass.

Erik is doing much better than he had expected, in his current state, but his lance-work is definitely not as accurate. On each pass, when he begins to lower his lance to take aim, one can see that the tip isn't held as steady as it would need to be to score a hit, and the results show. After three passes, he has not broken a lance just yet though only suffered through one blow. There is no time to complain though, the Ibrahm readying once again for another series of passes.

Eiris has been tending to her own set up but she has moved in a position to watch as her destrier is saddled, the girth tightened again once the horse has relaxed. She lets out a sharp whistle with her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth as Lionel scratches out a lead. Her combat armor is shifted, fingers tugging at the neck piece so it sits a bit better. Her head turns to take a look at the crowd as she shifts on her feet, flexing her hand in the armored glove before giving a glance back at those opposing out on the field. She winces, watching the Rovehn Knight knocked free of his horse and her voice lifts, "Good try, Sir Lionel!" The Lady steps back towards Otik, the destrier scuffing his hooves to the ground.

Despite being an Ibrahm now, it appears that the Valen blood still flows strong in Erik's blood because his the next series of passes goes much more favorably for him. Either he is able to adjust to the bruises that his body sports or just by the luck of the Six, it was on the fifth pass that the Ibrahm Knight manages to unhorse his opponent. Lionel rode well but this time Erik's lance-work was much more on point as it smashes on target, shattering the lance and unseating the other knight for the victory. When he rides to the end of the tilt, the Ibrahm turns his steed around and trots back to where the other man has fallen, looking as if to check on him, "Sir, are you all right?"

The announcer had been quiet the entire time although the crowd sure wasn't. They've been yelling, cheering, booing and showing their apprieciation quite robustly. By the time Sir Keates is unhorsed it just might be difficult to sit in the stands without covering one's ears.

"Oh my," the announcer cries out in an appropiately aghast tone. "Sir Keates will have had his bell rung with that fall, I bet! Lord Sir Erik is the winner!" A pause is made while the results are written down before another announcement is made. "Will Lord Sir Nikomachos Sauveur of Cindravale and Lady Sir Kassandra Cindravale please come to the lists!"

While waiting for the next participants to arrive young boys hurry out to clean up the ruined lances so that the horses will not get spinters stuck in the softer part of their hooves.

Despite the successful series of passes, this whole affair ultimately ends up with Lionel on his back in the dirt. Charmer does lazily stride back to look down at him with those mismatched eyes, his nostrils flaring idly as he sniffs at the Knight's visor. The Mane lies there for a heartbeat and then grunts. "Shut up," he says at his horse before he eases himself upright. He waves off the Knight's concerns. "Perfectly fine, Sir Erik," he announces dryly before he starts to heave himself up right wtih the help of Charmer's bridle.

"Lemonade, please," Agnes requests of the vendor, patting Jarek gently on the back as he coughs. She cheers for Lionel's first pass, then for Erik when he wins, because he is a Crescent rider.

When the other knight responds favorably to his condition, Erik raises his visor and nods his head respectfully to Lionel, "You rode well, Sir." Then he turns his horse so he can depart from the tilt, so that the next pair of competing knights can begin.

Lionel waves his hand a bit in regard to the quality of his riding. "I ride better against Hostiles," he says to the Khourni-married-Valen. He swings himself back into Charmer's saddle so he doesn't have to strain his neck looking up at the Knight. He looks at ease in his saddle despite taking several lances to the shield and body and then landing on the ground. He glances toward the next pair as Kassie and her brother take to the lists and start to charge one another down. "You did quite well after the beating you got from the melee… I've been properly humbled." And there is a grin in his voice.

Nikomachos reaches down for his lance, taking it from his squire and guiding Erinye to his end of the lists. He offers a nod to his brother, another to Lionel, and then he's in his place. Raising his lance in salute to his sister at the other end of the lists, he waits for the signal. There it goes, and he heels his destrier forward, lowering his lance and couching it under his arm. Fiery wings flare from his shoulders as his lance strikes home, shattering under the impact. He rocks back under the counterblow, laughing aloud as he hauls himself back upright in his saddle. Turning around, he gives Kassandra another wave, taking another lance from his squire and charging again. There's another shatter of lances, and again he's rocked back, although this time he rolls the blow off his glowing hard light shield more readily. At the end of the lists, he turns around again, to find Kassandra on the ground. Urging Erinye forward more slowly, he offers his sister his hand, "Well ridden, Kassie. Couldn't expect two double victories in one tourney, now could you?"

The jousting in this tourney holds more interest for Elodie, now, as many of her family to be, including her betrothed are competing. She grins and chatters a little to those seated around her, raising her arms in a cheer as Erik wins his first foray into the lists. Then, it's time to watch brother vs sister, and she tips her head to the side, an amused smile playing at her lips at the first of the sibling rivalries likely to happen today.

Exhausted, sore, and favor-less, it's a miracle that Kassandra manages to keep ahorse during her first pass. The shattered lance is a bonus, and the cheers from the crowd are enough to make her grin. But fatigue and terrible bruising are getting to her, and she actually squeezes her eyes shut during the second pass. The solid *thunk* to her middle shoves her right out of the saddle, and she lands flat on her back. The wind is knocked out of her, leaving her in the dirt in a daze for a good thirty seconds. Wheezing out a groan, she rolls over onto her hands and knees and then hoists herself up unassisted, stumbles, and then reaches up to remove her helmet. She squints up at Niko, looking utterly dazed, and offers a faint grin. "It's not the winning, Niky. It's getting the shit kicked out of me that's the fun part. Be so kind as to point me to the exit, because I can't see straight."

"And another unhorsing! Oh my! The medics just might be busy applying ice and bandages today!" The result of this round and the announcer's words have some boos although it's more to the one whose voice rings out via the PA system than the fact that Niko won. The mic squeals as whispering in the background is picked up, causing a little feedback. "Sorry about that, Havenites. Moving right along, Lady Sir Brienne Arboren and Lord Sir Sammel Cindravale, you are next so come on down! You're up next!"

Watching his brother and sister joust, Erik can only watch in silence, as there is no favorite for him to cheer for. Though maybe, just maybe, he wishes his sister to win as she is the underdog in the pairing. When Niko wins though, the Ibrahm Knight does applaud before he looks back to Lionel, grinning back, "It's the Valen blood."

"Ouch! Well fought, Sir Kassandra! Well done, Sir Niko!" Agnes cheers from the stands, reaching a hand to swipe some of the snacks from Chiron to munch.

Nikomachos shakes his head at Kassandra's words, nudging Erinye so that he can lead his sister over to her own destrier, "Just let the Prince lead you. He knows the way." And then he's getting himself out of the way too, moving back to where the rest of the participants wait, "Nicely ridden Lionel and Erik as well. We'll have to see if Valen blood or Valen names win out today, now won't we?"

"And another unhorsing! Oh my! The medics just might be busy applying ice and bandages today!" The result of this round and the announcer's words have some boos although it's more to the one whose voice rings out via the PA system than the fact that Niko won. The mic squeals as whispering in the background is picked up, causing a little feedback. "Sorry about that, Havenites. Moving right along, Young Lord Sir Solon Cindravale and Lady Eiris Rovehn, you are next so come on down! You're up next!"

The Mane smirks toward Erik. "I'm not sure that counts, Sir… we are both Valen." Then he offers the married Lord a gentle nod of his head before he starts to lead his horse to the stables where an unlucky stablehand will get to deal with his unsaddling and grooming. He then looks over his shoulder a bit toward Nikomachos and then toward Kassie. The latter is given a lazy salute before he looks off toward the lists when Eiris's name is announced. He cheers. Rovehn stick together.

Already armored and waiting his turn, Solon pets his destrier's neck lovingly as he watches the first two pairings. A cheer is delivered as his cousin Erik unhorses Sir Lionel. The matchup of Niko and Kassie is hard as he dearly loves both of his cousins, but he does cheer for Niko as Niko unhorses Kassie. At the very least Kassie has earned great honors by being one of the winners of the the Melee. "Time for us to go." He whispers to his horse before touching the cloth that's wrapped around his upper arm and stitched with an 'EV'. Mounting up, he guides his mount over to take position, first making sure to take up a lance as he does so, lowering his visor along the way.

The second match goes much more swiftly and the Rovehn Lady is pulling herself astride her horse, getting a good foothold as she swings her legs over. Eiris reaches down to take her helm and once in place clicks on her AI and lets it fire up. Taking the reins in one hand, she reaches down for the lance from her attendant, shifting the weight of it beneath her arm, she gives a nod once everything is in place. Ready. She sets herself at the opposite of the lists from her opponent, giving a faint nod to the Young Lord Sir.

Platinum Prince practically drags Kassie along, and as she passes Lionel and sees the salute, she blinks before flashing a tired grin. "Hey sexy." That is all the greeting he gets before she stumbles along, passes off the reins, and drops down, exhausted, into a reserved seat. She'll get out of her armor just as soon as the joust is finished.

There's a moments pause for Elodie as the next match is listed, but really, it's a lock that she's going to cheer for Eiris. She watches Kassandra exit, and her eyes rest on Nikomachos before she's watching her friend.

Chiron cheers for the Sir Kassandra and Sir Nikomachos when they finish. He had hoped for Kassandra to win, but you can't get everything. He teasingly glares at Agnes as her hand moves to his snacks, but he doesn't stop her or pull the snacks away. He looks back at the action as Eiris and Solon begin their match. "Go Eiris! You can do it!" He shouts.

Solon kicks his mount forward, lowering the lance as he does so. He is unsure as to Eiris' skill with a lance, but he is well aware that she is quite the rider, Rovehn do tend to be great riders after all. Contact is made and his own lance shatters, but she manages to hold on. He feels her own lance shatter against him, and feels himself lose his position in the saddle, finally going over and landing on his back on the ground with an 'oof'. A long sigh escapes his lips as he stares to the ceiling. "Mother will not be pleased by this." Another few moments pass and then he gets up and offers a bow to both Eiris and the crowd at large before trodding over to gather up his horse's reigns.

The weight of the lance shifts in her hand, tucking heavily against her side as Eiris charges directly at her opponent. Slowly in and out she breathes, the AI adjusting for her as she rocks lightly in the saddle as Otik thunders forward, gathering speed as the distance is eaten up. Swinging her lance further inward last minute, she aims for the inside of his shield and an attempt to carry more of her momentum through the strike even as it connects, the sound of both lances breaking thundering. Solon's lance against her own shield turns her, causing her foot to catch under her destrier, anchoring herself in the saddle for a moment or two before catching her breath and flushing with color, the heat inside of her helmet due to the warmth of her breath as she slows, attempting to turn and see what has become of her opponent, catching Solon's nod as she eases her destrier back across and towards him. Her visor lifts and she gives him a nod in turn before clearing the area for the next match.

There's silence for a long time, the announcer stunned mute. When he finally remembers to speak it's in a tone that is awed. Or maybe it is shocked. "Lady Sir Brienne Arboren and Lord Sir Sammel Cindravale. You're next."

The announcer isn't the only one that is stunned mute for a moment. Elodie just stares, and then she jumps up on her feet to cheer for Eiris before she looks for Sammel to enter the lists for his match.

"Go Sir Brienne! Win for the Spine!" Agnes shouts, holding tight to Jarek's arm at the excitement.

Nikomachos starts to cheer as Solon and Eiris start their charge, and then his jaw drops open inside his helmet, "Knight Above." He laughs, and then brings his right hand around to clap his gauntlet onto his right thigh. "Well ridden, Lady Eiris! Well ridden!" And then he looks over to Sammel, "Good luck, Sammy. Don't get re-bruised."

Chiron blushes at Agnes's question. "Yeah… That's her." He grins rather stupidly, watching intensely as Solon and Eiris charge at each other. When Eiris knocks the Young Lord from his saddle Chiron cheers rather loudly, "Yeah! Go Eiris!"

Kassandra grins. And as the matches continue, her grin ever widens. A Valen needn't win for her to be pleased; she is just as amused by seeing men thrown to their doom by women.

Brienne has been patiently waiting at the side, watching the others compete. So far every match had ended with someone being unhorsed. Wincing when each fall off, she breathes a sigh of relief when they are once again able to get back on their mount, or stand and be somewhat coherent. As each match passes, she readies herself by closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths now and again. After her own name is called, she takes the lance and salutes her opponent before lowering her visor and tucking the lance beneath her arm. When the call is given, she charges forward, intent on delivering a solid hit if possible. As her lance strikes true, she watches it disintegrate against the others armor even as her opponents lance shatters against her own. She manages to keep her seat though, but notices Sammel go down. At the end of the list, she turns and rides back t check on him.

Back in the spotlight again, right? And so Sammel rides over towards where he's supposed to be getting ready now. Looking over his armor for a few moments, then getting all ready, he offers a bit of a salute to Brienne, while getting the lance and charging forward. Aiming his lance, he can feel the lances shatter. Then, there's a strange feeling of flight, like some kind of bird without any control. And then, after what feels like an eternity through the air, it feels like someone turned off the lights, just as he hits the ground hard, first on his back, then the helmet hits the ground as well. And for the moment, he stays down there, knocked out from the landing, it would seem.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I can honestly say that I've seen enough to know I've seen too much." A low chuckle is broadcasted over the mic. Someone is more than amused at his own joke. "I know that there probably need for a breather, here, but let's get our next round started. Lord Sir Nikomahos and Lord Sir Erik Ibrahm. Ready?"

Still smiling from Eiris's win, Elodie watches Sammel, ride, relaxed and still chatting, chuckling at the good natured teasing as he makes his appearance. Her relaxed posture freezes when the lances make contact, and she feels like she watches her knight fly in slow motion, his helmet falling away. She's not sure when she grabbed the rail in front of her, and she grips it tightly, her hands straining to fight the urge to leap over and go running down to the lists.

"She's quite impressive," Agnes notes to Chiron. She cheers as Sir Brienne wins her bout.

Niko's generous compliment is received with a salute from the Lady, trotting past as she moves to take up a position to readjust armor and wait for her next match. Breathing slowly, Eiris glances towards the stands and notes Elodie first, a grin curling her lips up as her hand raises to the Iah Lady. A nod of her head and then she is adjusting her saddle before eyes lift to note another known face to her and she arches a brow, clearing her throat before glancing to the two now facing each other.

The way the pair of lady knights took care of their male opponents more or less left Erik speechless as he watches them both win on their first passes. Only when his name is announced for the next round does the Ibrahm snap out of it. Trotting his horse to one end of the tilt, he signals that he is ready before glancing to the stands again, for Johana. Then he looks across to his brother on the other end of the tilt and salutes, though he does add a message through the private comms, "Brother, I look forward to see if you are just all flash and no bang. Though, I do not envy whichever one of us wins, the next round will no doubt be tough."

Nikomachos laughs sharply again, a touch of disbelief edging the sound as he watches Sammel bowled over in one tilt as well, "Sol and Sammy both." He takes up another lance from his squire as his name is called, riding down to his end of the lists. He raises up the lance in salute to his brother, responding on the private comm line as well, "Just ask Ellie. Well, one of us will have to put them down, put a Cindravale-ish atop the tourney."

Finishing his drink and looking at Chiron curiously for a moment then to Agnes. Jarek continues to watch the goings on of the joust.

And of course, someone's helped Sammel off the ground and over towards the tent he's been using.

Despite the jousting lasting only two rounds, it appears to be some rather magnificent riding on both parts and equally impressive lance-work as well. Lances are shattered on each pass for both knights but in the end, it is the younger Valen who is unhorsed at the end of the second pass. With a oof and a little bit of pain from his bruised body, Erik slowly sits up and raises his visor, raising a hand to let his brother and the crowd know that he is fine.

That's all Ana needs.. seeing that Erik is fine, she breathes a sigh of relief and leaves the stands to go find him and cheer on his brother with her over the remaining opponents.

Two more tilts, two more flares of Nikomachos' holographic wings, two more moments of pure, delicious terror as he struggles to stay in his saddle, and then he's throwing aside another lance hilt and turning around to see his brother on his back. Riding slowly back to him, he leans low from his saddle to offer his hand to his youngest brothers, "And there's the reason I save myself for the joust, baby brother. Well ridden though." The smile behind his helmet is easily audible as he adds, "And now you don't have to ask Ellie anything."

Not everyone who comes to watch the joust is actually from the higher classes. Among a group of more common spectators, Jocelyn whoops loudly, shaking a fist in the air as a knight hits the ground.

Eiris and Brienne are next called. "Let's see what these two Ladies can do!"

The joy of watching the joust has pretty much been lost on Elodie. As Sammel is helped to the appropriate tent, she excuses herself to her friends, and makes her way to that tent to see to her betrothed's bruises… that he had assured were nothing.

Lionel is standing in the wings as he watches the lists with those sharp blue eyes. His helmet now hangs off his belt as he folds his arms at his chest, looking steady and calm despite his unfortunate unhorsing very early on. He glances up toward Jocelyn at her whooping and hollaring, smirking her way with a touch of amusement. Then he looks back out toward the tilts.

Born Arboren but squired and knighted Cindravale, Brienne is as much into the joust as the Valen, or so she thinks. When her name is called again, she looks towards the stands where Agnes is and lifts a gauntlet covered hand to wave, a thanks for the cheers. Her smile is also warm before she lowers her face plate and lifts her lance in honor of her opponent. She takes her place again, as before, tucking the lance safely into place and riding hard for the other end of the tilt, her lance shattering against her opponent even as one is crushed against her. As before, she holds tight, managing to keep her seat while her opponent is unhorsed. Rounding back once at the end, she returns to check on the lady knight.

Jarek turns to Agnes, "Give her a cheer for the both of us? Really make them hear it?" He smiles, reaching just slightly with the arm in his sling to pat her hand.

Shifting her weight in her stirrups, Eiris reaches down for her lance and without much hesitation, throws herself into the charge towards Brienne. A simple nod before the real weight of her horse is thrown into the charge. The reins in one hand, she leans into the weight of her lance but has far less control this time. The first breaks but it is the second that does not, in fact she feels the rather true force of the other Lady's lance near slamming into her chest as she is thrown from her horse and slides a few feet across the ground to land on her side. Losing the lance halfway through her fall, she groans a moment and catches her breath after having it knocked out of her. Slowly she sits up and then pushes herself to her feet, taking care with each minute gesture. Looking up as Brienne draws close, her visor lifts and she dips her head, "Well done, Lady Sir…well done. Good luck in your next."

"BRAVO Sir Brienne! Well done! Well done indeed!" Agnes shouts for her and for Jarek.

Those watching are on their feet, yelling and cheering. "Alright! That was a great showing by Lady Eiris but it seems like it is Lady Sir Brienne who is favored by the Knight this time. Let's get her and Lord Sir Niko at the ready. And folks, lets give all our participants of the tournament a rousing round of applause as well as those people who are being benefited by the charitable efforts put on by the tourney holders."

"And let's not forget those who are holding this wonderful event. Without them, we would not have had the chance to see such splendid shows of… splendidness. Yes."

This is the one true test, the match that Kassie has been waiting for rather impatiently. When her brother and his final opponent are announced, she sits up straighter in her seat. Leaning forward, the Valen props her elbows on her knees and peers up at Nikomachos. She is not the screaming sort, so holds her cheers in reserve for the victor.

Chiron claps politely for Brienne, but doesn't cheer. He looks a little sad as he watches Eiris pull herself off the ground, but she's ok for the most part it seems. "She's rather talented." He replies back to Agnes, the red in his cheeks returning some.

Jocelyn raises two finger to her lips to let out a shrill whistle at the next pass, her jumping around spilling a little beer on her companions. "Hey, Sir Lionel!" she shouts toward the Knight in the wings with a grin, earning a few odd looks from the other women with her. "Good showing!" She climbs over a few bleachers to get close to the wings, hanging over the barrier. "Who's your money on for a win? These girls," she points a thumb over her shoulder at her companions, "Had theirs on you, on account of being the prettiest."

Nikomachos watches the other semi-final match, clapping his gauntlet on his thigh again, "Bravo! Well ridden both!" Boosting the volume on his armor, he calls out, "Sir Brienne. This seems very familiar to me somehow. Let's see how things go this time, shall we?" And then he's leaning down to collect another lance from his squire and guide Erinye to the end of the lists.

Clearing herself and Otik back towards her attendants and gear, the Lady Eiris sees to getting out of the armor but pauses to study the last pairing, a smirk playing at her lips as she is pulled free of her vestments. This brings a grimace, "Ugh.."

Lionel turns his head around again at the sharp whistle, and he starts to grin toward the Arboren woman. "Well… if it isn't one of my saviors," he says with a tilt of his head. His brows arch over his eyes at the news of the bet, and he looks beyond her toward those lovely companion girls. He raises his hand, offering the women a rather bold wave and equally bold smile. "Well, they have good tastes, even if perhaps a poor review of skills." He grins wryly toward Joce now before he turns back toward the lists, encouraging her to join him. "I'm torn… Jeremy would have me root for Sir Brienne, but my Valen blood wants to root for Nikomachos… who do you think I should cheer on?"

Jocelyn turns back toward her friends to pointedly mouth 'SAVIOR' while pointing at her chest before she answers Lionel, taking a swallow of beer. "I'd say it's a close match," she shrugs. "Might just come down to luck. Or the horse. I'd guess the Valen's horse has probably seen more actual combat. But that might mean he's had an injury. I think the answer is more beer," the diminutive scout decides with another drink and a grin.

When the finals are called, Brienne lifts her visor again and smiles. "Good luck, Sir Niko!" Hearing the cheer from the crowd, she waves again to Agnes and Jarek. When she accepts her lance, she looks back towards the Valen and lifts it in a salute before lowering her visor and riding hard. When the passes continue, and there is still no clear winner but several broken lances, she returns to her end and prepares for another turn.

Agnes holds hard to Jarek's hand. "This is nerve wracking when not participating."

The first pass causes Nikomachos to grimace, the first he hasn't broken his lance on, and a solid hit in response. The next two passes, however, go a lot better, lances shattering and impacts causing him to reel in his saddle. Of course each hit causes his wings of fire to burst forth from his shoulders, and by the end of the third pass, he is laughing at the joy of it.

Jarek gives Agnes' hand a tight squeeze, "I'm glad you're enjoying this my love. It really makes me happy to see you like this, on the edge of your seat with such excitement." He smiles at her, leaning in to peck her cheek with a small kiss before turning back to watch.

"I think you're onto something about the whole luck thing," Lionel says dryly as he watches the knights exchange broken lances. He grimaces a bit. "Gods… they are going to be doing this forever." Though, really, there's only three more passes left before it is down to scores. He grimaces a bit. "Tied…" Then he reaches for Jocelyn's beers, aiming to steal it from her so he can have a drink.

When the passes continue without a clear winner, Brienne realizes she has met her match. As she rides, she rides hard, each lance that breaks is patiently replaced only to be used so viscously in the next round. Two more lances later and there is still no clear victor. She can't keep from smiling. A well fought challenge in her own opinion. Head down, she goes into the next pass…

"Are they? Truth is, I don't really keep score," Jocelyn admits, passing her cup down to Lionel with a whoop and a holler for a particularly vicious pass. "Mostly it's fun to watch you all knock each other into the dirt. And you have nice horses," she adds with an appreciative nod.

Three more passes, another broken lance, and Nikomachos shakes his head, raising the unbroken sixth lance in salute. Each pass he sobers up, and after each smash of lance to armor brings joyous laughter to his lips again. "Six passes for the Six, and the Seventh is the Devil's pass…" The words are murmured as he collects another lance, hefting it so that the color-shifting ribbons of yellow and red just beneath the blunt head lift and dance in the still, tense air.

"You have a nice 'horse' too," Lionel says, taking the cup and a swallow from it earnestly. He does glance a bit behind Jocelyn as if to emphasize what horse he's talking about. Then he looks back out at the lists. He grimaces at the next series of broken lances, dropping his head a bit to groan. "Come on… you're killing me…"

"I'm pretty sure they're killing each other," Jocelyn muses to Lionel, taking her cup back and promptly trading it for a much more full one from one of her friends, who seems to think she got the better deal with a cup touched by Lionel's lips. Jocelyn, on the other hand, looks perfectly happy with more beer.

Six passes.. Brienne is surprised by now to still be seated and even hopeful of a win. Wind Dancer, her destrier, knows his stuff by now and on the seventh pass, she doesn't shatter any lance. On the eighth, it shatters on Niko's armor and has to be replaced but she does manage to keep her seat, just barely. On the ninth and what proves to be the final pass, she lifts too early and takes Niko's lance to her middle and it catches her, pushing her back off her horse. She lands with a hard thud on the ground but is quick to sit up and wave, a reassurance that she is still alive. Breathing? Debatable. She'd just had the air knocked out of her. Offering a thumbs up while attempting to catch her breath, she lifts her visor and smiles at Niko. "Well.. done.."

The seventh pass comes and goes without the Devil's intervention, and Nikomachos strangles his laughter, buckling down as the impacts mount, driving bruises through his armor and underarmor to the skin beneath. Bruises mount atop bruises, and lances shatter, he even manages a perfect hit at the point of Brienne's helmet on the eighth pass, but she stays in her saddle. The ninth pass, the ninth flame of his Phoenix's wings in this match, and he sways in his saddle once more, turning about and almost expecting to see Brienne still ahorse. She's down, however, and he tosses down the stub of his lance, shutting down his hard light shield, and rides back toward her, rubbing at his chest. "Amazing, Sir Brienne. Absolutely spectacular. It has been an honor." And again he leans down to offer a hand to help her to her feet.

"Well Ridden, both!" Agnes cheers, only slightly disappointed that Brienne didn't triumph over the Valen-born Sauveur.

The spectators are on their feet and the announcer cries out, excited beyond measure to name Lord Sir Nikomachos the winner. Ashleigh rises to her feet as well from where she sits in one of the reserved seats, clapping and yelling

Kassandra has been on the edge of her seat since the second set of passes, and she teeters back and forth until she sees Nikomachos unseat his opponent in the final pass. Startled, she leaps up out of her seat and bellows out a cheer "GO NIKY!" that immediately leaves her regretting her actions. Wincing and leaning over, she waits for the dots in her vision to pass before clattering out of the stands and stomping onto the field to make a beeline for her brother.

Lionel watches as Nikomachos unhorses Brienne. He grins over the edge of his cup. "I think someone's getting laid tonight." He glances toward Jocelyn with a knowing grin before he takes another gulp of beer.

Brienne accepts the hand and stands with his assistance, a wide grin spread across her features. "Thank you, Sir Niko, it was indeed an honor. Well done, Sir." Once standing, she offers a bow from her waist, an acknowledgement of his superior performance. "Now.. to go take a hot bath for these bruises." The amusement still graces her expression, but there's a tightening around her eyes, perhaps more sore than she is letting on. Straightening from the bow, she turns to the crowd, offers a wave and slowly lopes towards the sidelines, leaving the champion to take his field.

Chiron cheers, the finalists put on an amazing show. He finishes his drink, putting the snacks away. "I'll see you later, Agnes? I need to go find someone." He smiles at her, giving her a hug. "Glad to see you up and about, Sir Jarek." He says as he moves his way out of the stands, and beginning to look around for Eiris.

"I think a lot of someones are getting laid tonight," Jocelyn laughs to Lionel. "Go ask the beer vendors about how much of the stuff they've sold today." She takes another drink, looking like she's probably done her fair share of damage to the kegs throughout the day. "Anyone who isn't too injured, that is."

Nikomachos makes sure that his armor speakers are set quiet, well beneath the roar of the crowd, as he puts in, "Find someone pretty to share with you, Sir Brienne. It's a wonderful restorative." His opinions seem to be quite in line with those of Jocelyn in the crowd. He bows his head to Brienne once more, and then reaches up to undo the purple favor from his arm, holding it up in his left hand as he pounds his breastplate with his right fist to trigger the flaming wings once more, and he points his left hand, favor in hand, to where Ellinor sits in the stands.

There is a grin at the victors and Eiris nods her head, murmuring something as she turns back to help remove the rest of her armor. "Careful, careful there," she hisses as her chest still smarts from the lance blow that slammed past her shield into her. Her back is not much better considering how she landed. The helm is off and she is dragging her gloves off to brush at her face and clear it of blonde hair. A few strands still stick to her skin and she hands off her belt so she can see about getting out of the rest of the heavy gear.

Unfortunately, Brienne is one of the unlucky ones who is not getting laid tonight. Niko's words do capture her attention and she offers a salute to him. "Will do, Sir Niko." A brief flash of a grin before she heads to her tent though and disappears into it to remove her armor and prepare to head for home.

Ellinor is on her feet, cheering like a madwoman that includes a fierce expression — the same kind that avid soccer fans have when their team wins. She grins broadly when he husband points her out, and she blows him a very ladylike kiss.

"Too bad I don't think a single competitor was single… oh, except Kassandra… but she doesn't count." Lionel knows that he will pay for that remark… if it gets to Kassie's ears, which it probably will.

Oh right, her gear. Kassandra stops dead in her tracks, looking down to see she is still armored, and then glances over her shoulder. Taking care of her horse should proooobably be top priority now, so she changes her direction and starts toward the exit.

Jarek looks up to Agnes, "Would you like to go and congratulate Lady Sir Brienne on a job well done? Possibly visit with her? I can meet you by the ways, give you time." He stands up slowly, in not as much pain it would seem.

"Actually, I'd like to go get that dinner," Agnes replies to Jarek. "We need some quiet time away from the Drakholt." She smiles and links arms with him to head out.

"Right? Knights and nobles, all pairing up to make knightly babies. Careful, sometimes we don't come out to form," Jocelyn grins cheekily at Lionel, drinking again. "Although, to be fair, I guess the noble ones come out noble either way. Just saying the knightly ones don't always come out knightly."

After a bit of wandering around Chiron makes his way to where Eiris was taken after her fall. He gives the door a slight knock and says, "Anybody home?"

"My babies will be very knightly," Lionel boasts proudly to Jocelyn before he finishes off the beer. He tosses away the cup before he grins over toward her. "Thanks for the beer, lovely. I'm off to go nurse my wounds and get some rest." He even gives the woman a nudge before he pushes off from the railings to make his retreat.

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