The Tourney at Ashford

A torrential downpour falls from the sky as the second day of jousting begins; lightning crackles in the distance followed a few moments later by a rumble of thunder. The stands are much emptier today and the standing observation area is almost completely deserted.

That doesn't stop the knight in black-and-yellow stripes, drenched though his outer trappings are, from riding on to the field against the opponent he had selected the day before.

Another rumble of thunder fills the air and Humfrey Beesbury's voice sounds hard to make out over the downpour rain, "Ser Wydman - I am glad to have found a true opponent to ride against. What follows, I must assure you, is not personal but I must stand for the honour of the Reach."

[All Animal Handling tests to stay in the saddle have their difficulty rating increased by 3 due to the downpour.]

Warryn smiled despite the downpour. He glanced up, disappointed by the lack of audience, but he understood.

"No problem Ser, I am glad you are not too bee-sy to honor me with your skill and valor." His smile widened. "I am looking forward to your sting."

Humfrey grimaces, "Ah yes. I've never heard that one before."

He signals for a lance, "I do hope yesterday wasn't just a fluke for you." He rode towards his end of the field, preparing for his charge...

Warryn smiled. "Fair enough, my apologies Ser. I'm looking forward to seeing myself." He nodded, and lowered his helmet, accepted his lance, and started his charge.

The Beesbury charged, mud kicking up under his horse's hooves as it charged. The Wydman's lance shattered with little affect on the yellow/black striped shield.

Warryn sighed.... the bee knight was good. Warryn will need to pull out the stops for this one. He threw the lance, accepting the new, and rode hard and fast. This wasn't that pass sadly, as his lance went wide.

The Beesbury came around for another pass, spear gripped tight.

"Feel my sting, Wydman!"

"Not bad Beesbury, not bad at all." He rolled his shoulders, his place on his horse still strong and sure. He drew on his Andal instincts, yelling out with a smile. "Right Makes Might!"

The spear hit is solid, but Humfrey's own lands more solidly. The Beesbury, with little trouble, stays in his saddle!

Warryn winced, his shield shaking from the recoil, his arm crimped. Good one. He kept his shield up, his lance going wide this time.

The knight glanced sideways as the pass ended, stopping at the far end with mud splattered up the side of his courser. The squire lifted another lance to Beesbury who promptly turned for another charge.

His opponent's spear went wide - Wydman was clearly suffering - but his own landed squarely home.

Warryn spat as he stopped, throwing the lance to the ground. He frowned, but he gritted his teeth, digging deep. His lance hit the shield again, hoping this will be enough for his opponent.

The shock was hard; the impact wound its way up the jouster's arm and he grunted in pain. He gripped his legs, barely holding on to his horse as he tottered. His own spear merely impacted on his opponent's shield, shattering in the rain.

Warryn let out a breath. Beesbury was tough, very tough. Still, his arm might hurt, be he endured worse. He stood on the defensive too, waiting for an opportune time.

The knight spurred for another round, kicking his horse into action.

Warryn weathered the next hit. Badly. He fell, grunting. It hurt. A lot. "Well. Played." There was a sadness in his voice, as he spoke.

OOC:
D3 LM Second Break, Animal Handling (Ride), tn 12: 5d6k4-1 7

Beesbury swings his horse around, leaping down from the saddle. He nods and reaches a hand out to help up the fallen Wydman, "Aye. Well played." He sounds pained from the impacts on his arm.

Lord Ashford rises in his seat and raises a hand; it's hard to hear him over the pounding rain, "Lord Beesbury wins!"

Warryn stood up, wearily. The man was his better. His eyes searched the scant crowd, looking for his father.