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Post by Roland Cordwayner on May 17, 2019 20:22:53 GMT 1
It was doubtless for the best that Ser Sebaston and Ser Aemon had not faced each other in the previous round. This was a wedding after all, even if there was a score to settle. At least Ser Sebaston had managed to recover some of his reputation by winning a place among the champions. Ser Roland tried to shake such concerns from his mind as he prepared for his last tilt of the day. PR: 21 AR: 11 Health: 12/12 I/W/F: 0/0/0 Know opponent Ser Vortimer of the Honeywine: 5d6k3 11 |
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Post by Father on May 17, 2019 21:04:51 GMT 1
One of Lord Florent's men, Ser Vortimer is far more capable in the melee than at the lists, though no true match for Roland when crossing swords either.
Animal Handling 3, Ride 1.
Endurance 4 Stamina 2
Fighting 4, Lance 2
Courser
Standardized Full Plate
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Post by Roland Cordwayner on May 17, 2019 22:42:03 GMT 1
Roland thumped his lance in to the doughty Ser Vortimer, trusting that enough strong blows would eventually unhorse the man. PR: 21 AR: 11 Health: 12/12 I/W/F: 0/0/0 [P2] v Vortimer EF,N,Brace;SiS;CyB: 9#8d6k4+6 24 25 24 26 23 25 22 28 22 9#6d6k4+4 22... |
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Post by Septon Abelar on May 24, 2019 3:16:29 GMT 1
Ser Vortimer is a younger man in cheap plate. He may not have a squire, but his friend's son scampers out alongside him, struggling with a bundle of Lord Florent's tourney lances. Fortune has smiled on this man, for rising up from low birth to become a knight, and to find service at distinguished and honorable house. Fortune has provided him a leal wife and a babe at home, safe within the walls of Brightwater Keep and away from any brigands. He pats his trusty steed on the neck and heaves himself up into the saddle, taking a moment to run a mailed finger along the stitching his father had lovingly worked into the pommel . . . the last and proudest work of a simple man, and the only inheritance he could manage. Up comes the pine shield, the faded paint showing a river and a saddle. A child's doll is tucked inside one strap. Up now the lance! Ser Vortimer tips his head, allowing his unruly visor to fall into place, on its cue for once. He looks down the lists at Ser Roland. They say he's a war hero. A tourney champion several times over. Well, fortune has smiled on Ser Vortimer of the Honeywine. Maybe fortune will show the Reach a new champion. With a whisper of a prayer, he charges on, atop the only horse he's ever owned. On, in the hero's plate that he dutifully scrubbed as a squire. On, to win ransoms for his love and his child! The maester's faces swing across from side to side like the tongue of a bell, before coming together as one. Ser Vortimer squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. Did I do it?
PR: 13 (KB R7 Serr Vortimer) N, EF; SiS; CyB: 9#5d6k3+4 20 18 17 15 19 18 19 20 21 9#4d6k3 8...Roland scores 24 v. 13 for 3 DOS and a TN 18 SiS, which Ser Vortimer critfails. Vortimer breaks a lance with 20 v. 21, 0 DOS. I'm presumed the knockout for narrative purposes, but feel free to overrule. I went for the heartstrings here, but keep in mind this guy presumably won six ransoms, so I wouldn't feel too bad about making him pay you. |
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Post by Roland Cordwayner on May 24, 2019 11:07:01 GMT 1
Accustomed to the gains and losses of a tournament, Roland at first paid the defeated man no more attention than normal. If the maester said he was unharmed, that was good enough for Roland. As he turned his mount to dismount and finally remove his armour, something caught his eye.
That doll is a most curious good luck charm, thought he that forever relied on folk wisdom and his Seven pointed star necklace.
Born to nobility and backed by his own tourney winnings and Lord Starling, Roland would likely pay the matter little heed even if he knew the full circumstances.
When Alicent and I have a son, I wonder if the Cordwayner hair will breed true once more? It would be a curious quirk if blond hair damned his late brother's "children" and then reappeared in his own line.
Such political complexities did not occur to Roland. For now a son and heir was merely a fleeting thought. It was rapidly pushed aside for later as his fellow companions congratulated him on persevering in a champion's seat.
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