[P2] Kingsbridge Round 2: Wildfyre vs the Young Oak

A rapturous wave of applause greets Ser Preston Oakheart as he canters out on the field atop a golden stallion. His burnished plate gleams in the afternoon sun as he twists and waves to the crowd from behind his helm, which is crested with a delicately-smithied oak leaf of bronze. On his back, he wears a cloak of rich green, chained across his chest and draped over the considerable bulk of his pauldrons.

The man has been the object of intense attention, courted by both sides of the realm's central dispute. In some ways, He seems to follow in the footsteps of Ser Daemon Blackfyre--a plainly talented warrior whose accomplishments exceed his years; a man of passion denied his love Gwenys, just as Blackfyre was refused Daenerys. But in other ways, he could be a natural supporter of the crown. Knighted by Prince Baelor himself. The woman of his dreams forbidden by a Blackfyre sympathist: his own father, who also did him the discourtesy of giving him Ser Rennifer Waters as a brother. And so he knows, as does King Daeron, that uneasy sits the trueborn when a bastard brother is on the loose, earning renown with each passing day.

When the Young Oak takes to the lists, supporters of each side cheer with a nervous abandon. This man is full of promise and potential. This man is the future of his house. Of the realm. Like so many, he teeters on the brink, torn by loyalties and friendships on each side. As he goes, so goes the Iron Throne. Better to flatter than risk slighting him.

The cheers for Daeron are not as loud, though they do have the tenor of bawdy authenticity to them, unlike the ovations for his opponent. His support is loudest from the commons, where shouts of "WILDFYRE," "KINGSBRIDGE," and occasionally, the playful "DWARFPUNCHER" echo out.

Once the master of games regains control of the proceedings, the trumpets ring out and the horses churn the earth beneath them as they accelerate to a rollicking charge. The commons go wild when Daeron rises in his stirrups, riding like huntsman determined to lose his own head. Ser Preston's cloak billows behind him the come together, lancing dropping in and shattering. Daeron was a tad late in bringing his lance down, and Preston was a tad early. Both men ride it out, keeping their seats. Squires rush forth to rearm them.

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[P2 Kingsbridge] Young Oak v. Daeron N Lance;SiS;CyB: 7d6k4+5 19 6d6k4+1 14 4d6 14

PR: 19

Both knights hit for 1 DOS, forcing a TN 13 SiS test, which they both pass. No damage penetrates AR dealt due to Noble stances on each side.

Ser Preston's lance wavers like a drunken man grasping the air for balance. For a moment or two, it seems as though he might miss entirely, but in the end he manages to break just the tip of the lance off on Daeron's shield. The return blow nearly unseats him. It seems this oak's roots don't go so deep after all.

The Young Oak's dismal pass has dampened the mood a bit. The crowd is much quieter now, except for Daeron's supporters in the commons, who are bawling with laughter and shouting off-color remarks at Ser Preston.

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[P2 Kingsbridge] Young Oak v. Daeron round 2 N Lance;SiS;CyB: 7d6k4+5 13 6d6k4+1 18 4d6 10

Health: 12/12 (right? You deal 4/DOS due to noble I think, so 8-10=0 dmg)
AR: 10
PR: 19

Daeron scores a punishing blow, but Ser Preston clenches in at just the right moment, rocking forward into the impact. He rides more respectably than in the last pass. The crowd returns to a polite buzz, their momentary panic at Ser Preston's fumbling lancework seemingly forgotten.

They take up lances and charge again.

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[P2 Kingsbridge] Young Oak v. Daeron round 3 N Lance;SiS;CyB: 7d6k4+5 17 6d6k4+1 23 4d6 15

Daeron keeps his seat against TN 13, while Preston does the same against TN 17. No damage.

Health: 12/12
AR: 10

PR: 19

Rolling the next round as well to expedite and also give Daeron a chance to narrate results:

[P2 Kingsbridge] Young Oak v. Daeron round 4 N Lance;SiS;CyB: 7d6k4+5 22 (TN 17 SiS) 6d6k4+1 17 4d6 15