Referee
The grand stand begins to fill again, the servants leave the field and the guards take their position raising their horns. The next pairing is announced: Sir Heldris the Dove Knight versus Ser Perilake the Gilded Knight!
Heldris the Dove Knight
The Dove Knight emerges from the pavilion as the next round is announced. “Wretched herald,” he mumbles, as he walks his horse towards the stand sombrely, waiting for the Gilded Knight
Perilake the Gilded Knight
As the sun glitters through the clouds, its rays catch on the shining breastplate and helm of the gilded knight, reflecting flashes across the onlooking crowd. His mighty black steed carries him forth into the stands. "May the best knight lose my friend! For I have hopes of winning this tourney myself!" Perilake bellows across at his companion, lance raised in salute
Heldris the Dove Knight
Heldris nods to his friend over the field, raising his lance in response. For a moment, he thinks of holding back, letting on the brave Gilded Knight the burden of fighting Anastaz, but suddenly realises that that would be just as much as an insult to Perilake, who always gives his best no matter what. So he lower his lance, and signals that he's ready to joust
As Heldris sets his lance ready, Colmán snorts loudly. "Don't worry my friend," he pats his horse's head "you look majestic too." He lifts his eyes to watch over the tiltyard, the royal steed waving its mane in the wind, and the golden armour shining under the bashful sunbeams. "Let's hope it'll be quick, at least." he spurs his horse and charges forward, the wind blowing through the wings of his armour.
The two friends rush to meet at the center of the field, their lances set. Clouds of dust lift under the steady pace of their steeds. As their weapons are about to reach their target, an eerie silence falls among those present. Someone clutches a wolfish pendent, someone else gasps as the Dove Knight's lance brushes against Perilake's shoulder, as the latter dodge the lunge leaning backwards and to the right of his saddle, and with a formidable effort thrusts his weapon against Heldris' chest.
From the stand, hundreds of eyes watches the Dove Knight fall to the ground, hitting his elbow upon his weapon in a painful and almost wolfish owl. They all seem to relax before they realise the bout is far from over, as they watch the Gilded Knight struggle to recover from his elegant movement upon his saddle, and fall to the ground next to Heldris, and a cloud of shining dust lifts into the air.
Perilake the Gilded Knight
Two stewards run forwards and grab the reins of the horses, leading them from the field. Through the dust, the gleaming armour of the gilded knight is the first thing the crowd sees as Perilake rolls to his feet. Dropping the lance, he unslings the mighty warmace across his back. "Well struck Heldris!" he breathes heavily as he speaks, forcing air into his winded lungs as he waits for his friend to gather their feet beneath them. "For a moment I thought I had you." He grins beneath the helm. "But I'm glad this is no fleeting exchange of blows from the saddle. The realm deserves to see the skill of our brotherhood in all its valour." Perilake raises his mace into a fighting stance, and advances
Heldris the Dove Knight
Heldris stands up, unsteady on his feet, and through the sudden noise of the crowd he can hardly breath. Then Perilake's words cut like a gust of wind through the heavy dust of the tiltyard. "Yes," answer the Dove Knight, "let's give them the show they came here for!" and with great pain from his sore arm, he unsheathes his sword, and advances.
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| We're all friends here |
Perilake the Gilded Knight
The two knights close the distance, and the crowd cheers. Even the King lifts ever so lightly from his seat as their weapons raise and clash. Heldris's first swing comes in hard and true, but with his arm stiff from the fall it has lost its typical alacrity. His friend leans out of the blade's arc, and then Perilake steps in to the second swing, taking the blow on his armoured shoulder as the steel flashes harmlessly off the golden pauldron. With a yell, the gilded knight twists his body and brings his great mace down and around in a low sweep that connects with his opponent's legs. With a loud crash, the Dove Knight flies - but ever so briefly, his body driving heavily into the floor. Before he can gather his breath, Perilake steps forward and places one foot on to their sword arm and gently rests the mace upon his chest
There is a moment of silence, before applause rings out from the crowd. Some cheer with all their hearts, whilst others merely give the appearance demanded of their presence; more than one purse was wagered on this fight, and more than one was lost with the Dove Knight's defeat.
As the noise washes over them, the golden helm is raised and Perilake smiles down. He steps back, proferring a hand. "A fair battle my friend. I am sorry to have clipped the wings of the Dove Knight, but honoured to have the glory of doing so."
Heldris the Dove Knight
Heldris, still dazed by the mace's blow, catches Perilake's hand and let himself be hoisted up. Still much unsteady on his feet, he catches his breath and smiles in return. "Honour's all mine, dear friend" he manages to say in a whisper, "honour's all mine." And he leans on the Gilded Knight's arm, as his friend helps him out of the field.
Referee
The next two bouts are over quickly: Sir Johann of Szalai dismounts Lady Katarzina at their first meeting as does Sir Vladislav with the Marshall of Szalai. All eyes are on the final joust of round 2: Lady Dagmar the Snare Knight and Marshall of Karpat vs Sir Anastaz the Salt Knight
Lady Dagmar enters the arena on a tattered steed, wearing a bruised and battered gambeson, a roped handaxe on her belt. She slowly approaches the stand and raises her lance in an almost lazy gesture lacking the respect one would normally show. Disapproving hisses are heard around the field.
Anastaz the Salt Knight
Sir Anastaz rides in on his scaled mount. Where her disrespect is clear from her lazy gestures, he performs the usual rites rigidly, almost sarcastically. "Let the knight favored by fate win this bout, my dear Lady," he shouts
Referee
The crowd cheers loudly after your salute. "Pray to the Sun, it's not the better fighter who wins" she says over her shoulder while she rides back. Then as the shouts of "Salt Knight!" and "Anastaz, Anastaz!" die down, she yells: "For the glory of Karpat!", spurs her steed and gallops towards you, lowering her lance slowly!
Anastaz the Salt Knight
Dagmar's boasts and threats seem to Anastaz to conceal weakness and fear. He does not care for this Knight, and whispers in Tibor's ear, "Do your worst," and aims his lance at her heart. As before, in moments he has reached an incredible speed, tilting at the Snare Knight as he sees her lance suddenly fly up from his chest to his head. He rolls to the side to avoid the hit, making contact with his lance, but also sliding down Tibor's side and towards the ground, unbalanced from the quick maneuver. "Damn!" he mumbles, as he scrambles to his feet, though he breathes a sigh of relief when he looks across the field and sees his own strike has unseated the Lady as well
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| Anastaz and the Snare Knight brawling |
Lady Dagmar raises her lance in the split second before the contact to strike at Anastaz head but misses. Anastaz' lance strikes true and she tumbles off her steed. She lands hard but gets up quickly and uncoils the rope that is attached to her axe in one motion starting to circle Anastaz. With her left she draws a dagger while footmen run onto the field and lead the horses from the arena
Suddenly she releases her roped axe that flies in a strange curve towards Anastaz threatening to ensnare his legs, while she rushes towards him trying to find a vulnerable spot for her dagger.
Anastaz the Salt Knight
Anastaz swings his spiked mace as she approaches, but the nimble Snare Knight ducks out of the way and continues her advance. He evades a flurry of devastating swipes with her dagger but falls to the ground, and she is upon him. She thrusts down her dagger, missing Anastaz's eye by a hair, and sticking her knife into the mud. Now, with the Snare Knight finally helpless for a brief moment, the dagger in Anastaz's left hand claims its due as he cuts along her side.
Referee
Blood gushes out of the wound and she withdraws holding her side. She breathes heavily but looks at you with newfound respect: "Maybe fate has favoured you today, Salt Knight, and the better Knight lost ... but you fought well!" She extends her other hand to help you up.
Anastaz the Salt Knight
He accepts, his breath ragged and heavy, trembling from his brush with half-blindness. "I was wrong about you, Snare Knight... You are a worthy opponent."
Referee
The Snare Knight bows and leaves the tiltyard. The applause from the stands is wild and there are cheers for the Salt Knight. Then the trumpets sound again to indicate the end of round two and the long break before the tournament is resumed in the afternoon
Anastaz the Salt Knight
Anastaz acknowledges the cheers with a nod, sighs, and leaves the arena in search of wine
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