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Post by Daeron Wildfyre on Nov 2, 2018 17:01:51 GMT 1
Daeron had no understanding of why Ser Farman spread such savage japes, or why he attempted to feign ignorance. He had hardly ever even met the knight, but to let such an insult go unanswered was not going to happen, not with the entirety of the Reach watching them. Mounting up on Argent he gives a salute to Ser Farman and calls out dutifully. "My condolences on the loss of your kin. Lord Bryce seemed a great man."Daeron then slides his visor down and kicks Argent into action. He had no intention to seriously harm, Ser Farman, but he only knew of one successful tactic in a joust, and how appropriate would it be if he defeated his slanderer with it. Lowering his lance, he flies forward like an arrow loosed from a bow, hoping that the Milk of the Poppy would dull the pain that was sure to follow.
Daeron is using Milk of the Poppy to reduce his penalties for everything to -1 PR: 11 (14-3) AR: 9 Health: 12/12 Courser Plucking Flowers-Tilt 1-N-HS-Ag3-HiS-EF: 6d6k4+8 29Plucking Flowers-SiS: 5d6k3-4 14Plucking Flowers-CYB: 4d6-1 10
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Post by Father on Nov 2, 2018 20:16:03 GMT 1
There is no reply from Ser Farman but that which comes at the tip of a lance, if aimed only a bit higher Daeron would have been looking forward to another night in the maester's care, but some twist of fate it appears that Daeron remains seated and his opponent does not. "Fine, I yield!" he growls. "Whatever in the seven hells this was about!"
PR 18 AR 10 Health 12 I assuming tourney lances here, he'll do war lance if Daeron does, Lord Leo has mandated tourney lances and longswords, being the first to wield something else draws down his ire and hits you with chivalry penalties. Brutal+EF: 5d6k3+3 14 6d6k4 16 4d6 14So he deals 15 damage, so 6. You get 4*7/2=14, so 4. He falls off, and doesn't see the point in keeping this game going.
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Post by Daeron Wildfyre on Nov 3, 2018 4:56:39 GMT 1
Daeron was honestly more surprised than he should have been that he remained seated after weathering the blow, it was certainly not his forte.
Wheeling Argent around he hops down and removes his helmet and strides over to his half-brother. A maiden in the gallery gasps thinking he’s going to punch him once more, but instead Daeron reaches down and offers a hand to the fallen Ser Farman.
“Brother, I’m not your enemy, but I don’t appreciate you spreading rumors about me through that ugly little dwarf.” His tone is cordial and friendly and there is a fraternal smile on his face, perhaps the Milk of the Poppy has softened his fierce persona. “Lady Mya told me all about it, so there’s no point in denying it, but if you would just apologize all will be forgiven.”
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Post by Father on Nov 3, 2018 13:07:59 GMT 1
"And it didn't occur to you that she might have made it all up for her amusement or to help Bloodraven's agenda?" He shakes his head. "Or were you too busy admiring her garb?"
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Post by Daeron Wildfyre on Nov 3, 2018 15:39:47 GMT 1
He had not, but it had less to do with Mya's flimsy dress and more to do with his quick temper. Was Ser Farman bitter over his loss or was he telling the truth? He wasn't wrong in pointing out that Mya did like to stir the pot, but usually idiots and the easily manipulated fell victim to her plots, not clever knights such as himself.
Daeron's lips become a pursed line, at Farman's statement, but offers no response other than continuing to hold out his arm to help the fallen man to his feet. If they were to have this conversation, in front of an audience was not the place.
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Post by Father on Nov 3, 2018 15:43:57 GMT 1
Farman having gotten up under his own power makes for the camps.
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Post by Daeron Wildfyre on Nov 5, 2018 4:01:31 GMT 1
Daeron makes no attempt to follow his half-brother. Although there was a possibility that Ser Farman was telling the truth, Daeron saw it as his responsibility to come to him rather than the other way around, especially now that the Seven had judged him to be the more righteous of the two concerning the matter. Otherwise, Daeron considered the matter to be concluded honorably.
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