In the stands (open to all guests)

Lady Corrine Marsten wrote:"
Oh, of course. He is a fine warrior. I did not mean to imply doubt. I must say, it is good to see you both so well, after the unpleasantness during the royal investigation."

"
Less unpleasant that it could have been, thanks to you and yours and that curious Bartheld aide."


"
An 'unpleasantness', yes, that's one way to put it. You are Isobel's daughter indeed."


She smiles.

"
House Marsten acquitted itself well in an 'unpleasant' situation. Tell me Lady Marsten - did you give much thought to who set you on such a thankless task, and what they may have hoped from you?"

Reader wrote:

Lady Corrine Marsten wrote:"
Oh, of course. He is a fine warrior. I did not mean to imply doubt. I must say, it is good to see you both so well, after the unpleasantness during the royal investigation."

"
Less unpleasant that it could have been, thanks to you and yours and that curious Bartheld aide."


"
An 'unpleasantness', yes, that's one way to put it. You are Isobel's daughter indeed."


She smiles.

"
House Marsten acquitted itself well in an 'unpleasant' situation. Tell me Lady Marsten - did you give much thought to who set you on such a thankless task, and what they may have hoped from you?"

"
Well, if not for the many brave efforts of those in attendance, I would be calling it something much worse, I expect. While much tragedy occurred, even more was avoided."


Corrine takes a sip of her drink, her eyes thoughtful.

"
I do not know why House Marsten was chosen. I hope to find out. You sound like you may harbour a theory, my lady. I would hear your thoughts."

Lady Corrine Marsten wrote:"
Well, if not for the many brave efforts of those in attendance, I would be calling it something much worse, I expect. While much tragedy occurred, even more was avoided."


Corrine takes a sip of her drink, her eyes thoughtful.

"
I do not know why House Marsten was chosen. I hope to find out. You sound like you may harbour a theory, my lady. I would hear your thoughts."

"
I have no special knowledge I am afraid, so treat my words as naught but speculation."


"
I only know this - restoring peace to Battle Valley is not a task I would set to a friend."

Reader wrote:

Lady Corrine Marsten wrote:"
Well, if not for the many brave efforts of those in attendance, I would be calling it something much worse, I expect. While much tragedy occurred, even more was avoided."


Corrine takes a sip of her drink, her eyes thoughtful.

"
I do not know why House Marsten was chosen. I hope to find out. You sound like you may harbour a theory, my lady. I would hear your thoughts."

"
I have no special knowledge I am afraid, so treat my words as naught but speculation."


"
I only know this - restoring peace to Battle Valley is not a task I would set to a friend."

"
I see,"
Corrine replies, thoughtfully. "
There were indeed some who said at the time that I'd been placed there to fail. That must be somewhat frustrating for them,"
she adds, with a little smirk.

[OOC: the following is a bit of a ramble. It's meant to be more-or-less stream of consciousness, except that for some reason I kept it in the third person instead of the first person. Baelon does not actually think of himself in the third person. ]

From his champion's box, Baelon watches the intense bout between Lord Forrest and Ser Jon, grateful that any challengers to his position were equally enthralled . In truth, he was a little surprised - pleased, but surprised - that his friend came so close to winning. Bold Jon Roxton was the favorite for Lane Four for a reason. Shortly after, and before he could go speak to either man, he was challenged, and had to take the field.

He had some awareness that while he was tilting Ser Jon took the field against some minor lord he had not heard of. That Ser Jon took the field again was the relevant information, Baelon didn't give two shakes of a rat's tail about the lord. Ser Jon taking the field again was important though because shortly after Baelon defeated his own challenger, Loreia challenged him. Ser Loreia. Baelon would have to be careful about that. Dropping the 'Master' when addressing Daveth's name could be seen as an insult, but Baelon felt that it was typically received as indicative of friendship. Besides, 'Master' was a title of privilege - it had little to do with the qualities of the bearer, however good or ill those qualities were. 'Ser' was a title of honor, though. It was earned - or at least in this case it was. That demanded respect. Baelon had worked hard for his 'Ser', and worked hard again for his 'Lord'. When those titles were dropped - as they often had been - it was disrespectful. Except from family, of course. That was different. Family.... his family was in some ways larger than it had ever been, and yet in many ways more distant. But he was woolgathering...

Ser Loreia was lining up for her first tilt, proudly displaying her new arms. A good choice, the closed gauntlet. Forceful, demanding, yet defensive. Implied strength, rather than implied violence. She's not wearing her new plate - good - that's not something to wear in a joust - the ransom would be horrifically high, if ransom was offered at all. Many of Loreia's - Ser Loreia's opponents would probably take it as a point of pride to not accept ransom for it. Insecure scum, that's what they were. Like that one knight that couldn't stand having been beaten by Dyana. Still, he would have to have a talk with Ser Loreia later - it was foolish to compete in a mere breastplate... she should have a set of tourney plate, like Baelon did. Surely she could afford it... or maybe she couldn't yet. Well, that could be remedied. Should have been already... he would have to talk to Daveth about that. Daveth was reasonable, and if anyone could get through Loreia's - Ser Loreia's, gods damn it, he would not slip up in front of her. Or anyone else. He would not let himself. What was he saying? Right, if anyone could get through her pride it was Daveth. If that was even an issue. Baelon realized that he had never really spoken much with Ser Loreia - he got it right that time. Good. Hopefully it would stick.

Ser Loreia though... he really wasn't sure what she thought of him. Not that it mattered, really - she would do her duty defending Daveth and serving House Coldbrook, and that was what was most important. Whether she liked or disliked Baelon, or his opinion of her, was of far less import. No denying that she had guts, and determination - to have even considered accepting Ser Eoric's offer, much less accepted it. He had once made a similar offer to Dyana. Things would have been different if she had taken him up on it. Instead, Ser Loreia - good, it was sticking - instead Ser Loreia would have to deal with the pain heaped on for being the first.

Ooh, that was a nasty crash. They both fell? Well, they could both pack quite a whallop with their strikes, so perhaps it wasn't too surprising. Swords though... Baelon had seen them both fight. Ser Jon was by far the better skilled, and he had valyrian steel - but he was badly hurt. It seemed like Ser Loreia was hurt, too... dropping her shield to two-hand her sword? A bold tactic... Baelon would have taken the defensive, let the Reachman's wounds bleed him out a bit. Then again, Ser Loriea had more to prove - a prudent tactic, no matter how effective, could be - no, would be - called cowardice. With lighter armor, Loreia - damn it, Ser Loreia, he had been doing so well - Ser Loreia probably couldn't last against even the weakened strikes of the famed southerner.

Her sword-work was sloppy, too. Some of that was likely her own injuries, but he'd seen it before when she was fighting. There's no doubt about her talent, but it needed refinement. Too much reliance on brute force - ironic, or perhaps overcompensation for the jeers she'd have gotten even before her knighting? Whatever, it didn't matter. With Ser Jorah leaving for King's Landing soon - so much change in House Coldbrook lately! - anyway, with Ser Jorah leaving, Baelon wasn't sure who might be able to train her. Well, perhaps he would offer. Ser Loreia's challenges were only just beginning, and likely wouldn't end any time soon. Stupid Andals, so stuck in the past. Times change - adapt or die.

A blow under Ser Jon's arm - good, he's yielding. Fighting with a wound like that could be fatal. A victory for Ser Loreia now is important - but Ser Jon dying now would be disastrous for her - she would be vilified even more. He winces as she sheathes her sword uncleaned. Nothing would destroy a blade as fast as blood and dirt - and now that blood and dirt was in the scabbard - good luck getting it all out. Ser Peyton Darke would have tanned Baelon's hide for doing that. Baelon had cleaned a lot of gear as a squire - sometimes an entire guard-shifts' gear at once. Ser Loreia had never been a squre - so much of what might at the time seem like abuse by the knight really was just to inculcate good habits in the squire. In a war, you live and die by your habits... good habits kept you alive, bad habits got you killed. You can't treat a knight like a squire, though...

Talking with Ser Loreia would have to wait. Baelon had another challenger to face....

Lady Corrine Marsten wrote:"
I see,"
Corrine replies, thoughtfully. "
There were indeed some who said at the time that I'd been placed there to fail. That must be somewhat frustrating for them,"
she adds, with a little smirk.

"
Many will underestimate a young woman. Even women themselves. Perhaps even especially women themselves."


Lady Sabitha gestures towards Lord Marsten.

"
Your Lord husband appears to be over his initial desperate matches. These are fine knights he is up against - champions of lesser houses and smaller tourneys. Now that he has dispatched them the chief risk is lesser men wear him down."


She nods approvingly at Benedict's display of prowess, applauding his latest hard fought triumph.

Theomore had been quietly observing the matches below with focused intent before his own joust against Ser Tymon, displaying what amounted to stone-faced concentration. Having picked a seat among similar minded individuals in a quiet corner of the stands. Until his first match. There was, of course, quite a lot to take an interest in on the field.

After this, he took his place in the champion's box, and seemed to be in a much more lively mood, showing his approval for Lord Ereth's decision to grant Ser Tymon the vacant seat left by the Shieldmaiden. He would rather not take a stand on whether or not her knighting should be recognized, but the prince had already solved that problem by bestowing upon her an honored title. No knight could ever be offended by being spoken to or about by a moniker they could take pride in. Wether Ser Eoric for holding the blade that dubbed her and Daveth for openly supporting it were playing a game with potential rewards worth staking the future of House Coldbrook upon or they both had turned stark raving mad, that he was like to never find out.

Tymon Lannister wrote:“Well, I know I am not in the afterlife, or there would be someone much more beautiful to greet and disrobe me” he said to Septon Arlyn

Septon Arlyn laughs at Ser Tymon's jest. "
Nay, unless you find yourself in the seven hells boy."
Septon Arlyn looks over the young knight and nods, examining him closely before the Septon remarks. "
Well the blow did some damage, but it appears the fall is where you hurt yourself the most. Thankfully your young. And we have some milk of the poppy to dull the pain should you wish it."


Septon Arlyn sets about stitching a small armor bite then applying a minty salve to the injury. "
This will help keep out infection, as well as making your scar not be as noticeable."
Septon Arlyn looks at his handy work before handing some simple garments with the Dulver's crest on them.

"
That should about do it. I'm sure Lady Helen will come tearing through that tent flap if I detain you for much longer. But it is not proper for a women to see a man before their wedding day."
Septon Arlyn smiles with a twinkle in his eye.

"
Now do take good care of yourself Ser Tymon. You may have grown considerably but I would be loathe to see any of my charges injuried. Even more so I would be afraid of what your Lady mother might do to be."
Septon Arlyn gives a wink and moves on to the next knight who came into the tent. Moving with practiced skill in assessing his new patient and begins caring for him.

Mechanic's
[url=diagnose Ser Tymons injuries Redwain tournament after see Theomore bout][/url]: 5d6k4 14

[url=Treat injury Ser Tymon Lord Redwain tournament][/url]: 7d6k5 21

For Ayleth, tournaments are a chance to forget all the webs of scheming and intrigue that were key to the nobles of Westeros and simply lose herself in the pageantry of nobility and chivalry. She had been watching and cheering the jousts enthusiastically. "
I do love tournaments. The courage, the excitement, it makes me feel like a young maiden again."
she says happily to her husband. "
When I was a maiden, I always dreamed of being crowned the queen of love and beauty..."
she adds with a sigh. Ayleth toys with the veil she is wearing over her hair, held down by a silver circlet. Her husband was kind and she loved him dearly, but he could be so serious. It seemed sometimes like he acted as though almost everything enjoyable in life was a waste of time and a distraction from duty. She knew he had the heart of a romantic deep down, though, as the beautiful steel rose he had given her showed. A little hint and some encouragement, and just maybe...

Davain sat with his wife and watch the tournament with mild interest. While the skill possessed by the competitors was truly amazing, they were risking their lives and wellbeing for glory. Ayleth comment made him chuckle. "
You feel like a young maiden? I guess you’re an old crone now."
Davain said in a joking tone. "
You don't need a crown to show your beauty. You are the Queen of Love and Beauty of heart. The women of the realm are envious of your beauty and the men curse that you are mine."


It was to great surprise that Loreia bested Ser Jon. While the man was worse for wear, he was still a formidable opponent. It was a greater surprise that Loreia dropped from the lists. Her actions caused a void in the tournament and place Lord Ereth in an interesting spot on what do now. Leaning over to Ayleth, he whispered, "
I curious to see what Lord Ereth will do now.”Does he name a new champion, or simple close the lane with no champion?"

Ayleth's eyes narrow angrily at her husband's joke. Ayleth likes to joke and tease, but jokes about her age are not appreciated. But her anger vanishes at her husband's sweet compliments, and they simply melt her heart. With almost any other man, she would assume he was simply flattering her, part of the elaborate dance of flirtation, but her husband's sincerity was unquestionable. It is part of why he is so special. "
You say the sweetest things, my love, and what is more is that you mean them"
she says fondly. She gives her husband a gentle kiss. "
Women should envy that I have such a loving husband."


"
Loreia did well"
Ayleth concedes about Loreia. She still finds the idea of a female knight faintly silly. Women have plenty of ways to wield power without weapons. But she is impressed seeing her fight. "
He will name a new champion, I believe. Else it might seem that there was not a notable enough knight present to be the new champion, which could insult the other knights and nobles present"
she says. "
There are several he could choose, but I know of no knight more worthy of the honor than my lord husband."

Reader wrote:

Lady Corrine Marsten wrote:"
I see,"
Corrine replies, thoughtfully. "
There were indeed some who said at the time that I'd been placed there to fail. That must be somewhat frustrating for them,"
she adds, with a little smirk.

"
Many will underestimate a young woman. Even women themselves. Perhaps even especially women themselves."


Lady Sabitha gestures towards Lord Marsten.

"
Your Lord husband appears to be over his initial desperate matches. These are fine knights he is up against - champions of lesser houses and smaller tourneys. Now that he has dispatched them the chief risk is lesser men wear him down."


She nods approvingly at Benedict's display of prowess, applauding his latest hard fought triumph.

"
You are most gracious to compliment his prowess. I'm sure he would grin from ear to ear if he heard it. It is both gratifying to see one's loved ones do well, and joyful to see their enthusiasm. I am very lucky,"
Corrine beams, watching Ben with loving, proud eyes.