The Tourney at Ashford

The two lords stop in the middle of the field, speaking to one another before the joust began. The two seem friendly enough; before they depart, they clap each other on the shoulder and turn back to the end of the field.

The first pass is slow, the two men getting the gauge of one another; spears shattered on shields with little fanfare.

A second pass: faster and more violent this time. Lances explode in a barrage of wooden splinters. The two men stay firmly seated - these are well trained and well tested jousters, without a doubt. Their two voices drift across the field; it's difficult to hear them from the stands.

The last pass is truly a spectacle; the two men charge at one another, their spears connecting squarely in the middle of the shields. Both knights totter in the saddles - and, slowly, they both slip to the ground, tossing up clouds of dust. Slowly, the two knights stand, dusting themselves off. Leo Tyrell turns to retrieve his horse but the Lannister Lord raises a hand.

"I yield!" the voice is clear and it's easy to tell just how old the Lord Lannister actually in from the exhaustion in his voice. "Well, fought, Lord Leo."

Lord Ashford nods as he rises, "Very well. Lord Tyrell is our victor!"