|
|
Post by Titus Blackbriar on Apr 28, 2019 15:17:00 GMT 1
The Bulwers are Oxensons. Blood of the Breaker, giants amongst men. But Blackbriar’s where Giantslayers. Titus’ armour, a finely crafted, expensive thing forged by the master smith of Starpike, was filled with such imagery - the righteous Andal Knight charging bravely through thorns and fire, laying low giants and ancient things for the Glory of the Seven. At this moment,Titus very much bought in to his part in this ancient legacy and boldly salutes his opponent.
Know Your Opponent - Cunning (Tournaments) v Lord Balman: 5d6k3 15 |
|
|
|
Post by Father on Apr 28, 2019 16:20:03 GMT 1
Fat Lord Bulwer should not offer much of a challenge to Ser Titus.
Animal Handling 3, Ride 1.
Endurance 4
Fighting 4, Lance 1
Destrier
Full Plate
|
|
|
|
Post by Titus Blackbriar on Apr 29, 2019 1:00:40 GMT 1
Growing ever bolder, spurred on by the roaring crowd and his own success, Titus steers his lance high, attempting to snatch the horned helmet of Lord Balman clean off.
PR: 20 (A2) Armour: 10 Health: 13/13 Charge 1-3 (N, EF, HiS, A2, Show-Off) v Lord Balman - F/SiS/CyB: 3#6d6k4+9 28 23 30 3#6d6k4-2 15 18 16 3#5d6k4 21 18 16 |
|
|
|
Post by Septon Abelar on Apr 30, 2019 2:27:48 GMT 1
Balman Bulwer is the lord of his house, but it's his brother whose strength and stubbornness earned the moniker 'the Grey Ox'--qualities that he proved on the melee field during the Black Tourney. Ser Donnel often said that it's the duty of the second sons to earn glory for the house, for lords do not always have time to practice in the yard as often as they would like to. Lord Bulwer seems like he's practiced more than Lord Jon, but he's also old enough that they call his younger brother the Grey Ox. He takes the field to some polite applause, kitted in a the fine plate and harness. His helmet is huge and pale, with tilted eye-slits and the horns of a bull curling forward from each side. The top of the flathelm is adorned by a drooping peacock's feather, stained blood red. A matching sanguine tabard, slit at the bottom, covers him from chest to knees, tastefully obscuring how his form widens at the waist. His squire hands him a tourney lance, painted like a long, skinny ox and capped with an iron coronal in the shape of curled horns. If there are any lovers of music in the crowd, they might remember the songs about how Ser Balman Bulwer led the center foot at the Prince's Pass. But singers are not known for their prodigious years. If there are any whitebeards in the stands, they might recognize the helm of the man who withstood the Dragonknight for two full minutes in the melee at Storm's End. But eyes that were once sharp enough to catch the action are now half-lidded and rheumy. Bulwer takes his place at the end of the lists. Alone. The Bulwers sound horns in battle, so a low TOOOT accompanies the traditional trumpet's blast as the knights touch heels to the flanks of their steeds. They charge, with Titus picking up momentum faster. It's a fluid pass with almost no impact. Ser Titus lance finds a cranny in the horned helm and lifts it gracefully away from the man's head. Bulwer leans so hard away from the touch that he ends up missing Titus completely and falling heavily from his horse. A loud THUMP echoes through the stands as the crowd cheers Titus's display of mastery. From the ground, Lord Bulwer blinks until the comets disappear from his vision. A small smile plays on his lips. Maybe some day Ser Titus will enjoy the fruits of the singers composing ballads about him.
[P2 Ashford] Lord Bulwer N, EF R 1-3 L; SiS; CyB: 3#4d6k3+3 16 13 20 3#4d6k3 14 14 10 3#4d6 20 18 18I forgot his +1 for EF, but it doesn't matter. The result is 0 DOS for Bulwer and he's also unhorsed on a SiS of 14 v. TN 18. |
|
