"Well, then King's Landing should be exciting for both of us!" Ashara says cheerfully.
Ashara is nearly as enthusiastic about her fashions as Cyra is. She twirls about as Cyra inspects her dress, showing it off and letting her skirts swirl around her. She then poses as though for a formal inspection and smiles at Cyra when she says the dress is beautiful. "Yes, comfortable enough. I love it!" she says enthusiastically.

Ser ewrnesto met his foe in the sparring ring. He liked it here. Here everyone was an equa. Here no one had false status to hide behind. Here things were more real to him. He took a few steps around to feel the well known terrain before turning to his opponent "you know you can still back out, I will not call that cowardice, it is smart to know when you are beaten, as I will not pull my blows or allow you to strike me." while waiting for a response he donned his shield and grabbed the long spear. as he braced for the charge.

In reply to Ser Ernesto Riquez (msg # 116):

"That is well Ser," Gabriel returned, shield raised and practice blade poised with its blunted point towards Ernesto "What would be the point of sparring, if you held back?" He asked, rhetorically, and then fell into the steps of Ser Ernesto's dance. Slowly Gabriel's boots stepped out the circle's opposite, mirroring the knight. Positioning. Measuring. Seagreen eyes peering through his slit visor, watching the blunted spear in his opponent's hand as he might an addled viper.

Then, he stepped in, taking a few rapid but stolidly calm steps forward: shield high as he closed the gap between them.

Gabriel wasted no time, launching a quick succession of strikes at the prepared knight. The warrior's arm struck out, brigandine-covered arm rising and falling with each slashing arc of his sword. The practice blade bit into a parry there, tasted wind here with a miss, but could not bring itself to bear on Ernesto. Gabriel was quick, had always been quick, but he was armored: this man was not, and the difference in agility quickly became obvious for it.

Still: Gabriel remained focused and undeterred, eyes unerringly fixed on the man at his fore.

In reply to Gabriel Laurent (msg # 117):

With a swift leap Ser Ernesto deftly avoided each swipe against him, there was no room for here. The blade his opponent wielded might be dull but it would hurt if it struck him. He didn't mean to taunt his foe but give simple advice

"To teach the weaker you let them strike, not all are as light footed as I am. Most men such as yourself fear the pain the blade brings, and so need to dress up for the occasion in metals that sap your ability to fight. Relese that fear and the may never harm you, learning to fight against me is a far cry from learning to fight against most men"

With that Ser Ernesto closed the distance his way. He moved forward slinging the shaft of the spear upwards through his hands as he did so. The spear looked stationary for a while until he clasped again passing the left side of Gabriel and in close proximity he swiped at the straps holding the armor together, piercing through and leaving a sore looking bruise on the man underneath.

Using the force of the blow to extend his reach once more he raised his shield knelt thrusting the spear forward into the air as if preparing for a cavalry charge.

In reply to Ser Ernesto Riquez (msg # 118):

Gabriel recoiled as the spear slammed powerfully into his side, just beneath his arm where the two halves of brigandine met and laced. The blow threatened to crumple the young warrior: a brief and hushed, "Oouf..." escaped his lips along with his breath. The voice sounded young. Too young yet to belong to a man grown. Still, the Raindrop "Knight" recovered quickly - losing narry a step as his shield lowered to turn aside the spear, while the warrior simultaneously took a bold step forward in the wake of his wounding.

The movement stirred up dust and sand in the training yard, Gabriel's boots trailed a cloud of the stuff as he leapt forward: within the older man's guard, past the point of his spear. Gabriel's practice sword trailed the length of Ser Ernesto's spear, pushing it out far and to the side as he struck - blade's dulled edge bouncing from its shaft to hit crosswise into the other warrior's stomach. A heavy blow, as heavy as the one that Ernesto himself had leveled on Gabriel.

Seagreen eyes and brows of spun gold glared back at Ernesto through Gabriel's helm. Focused, but not afraid. Bold, but not angered. Gabriel's passions were tightly reined - a cold sleet to Ernesto's burning intensity.

Quietly reserved and laconic, despite how soft and youthful his voice came. "I am not those men."

"I do not fear the blade's bite." Gabriel spoke, tone assured as he raised his steel and held his blade against its edge as a brace - blunt tip pointed ahead towards the knight.
This message was last updated by the GM at 12:02, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

In reply to Gabriel Laurent (msg # 119):

Ser ernesto leaped back with the swing from his opponant. It still caught him despite his best efforts. He felt the bruise forming where it hit. He could now see some talent inm the boy but he felt some rage build up in him from being caught off guard. "so you think you are my equal then? you think you could survive war's and battles?" he asked while panting.

 He didn't wait for a responce he moved at speeds unknown to most. Ser ernesot Charged his foe moving into his space loosening the footing of his opponant from the shock. Snapping round the shaft of the spear he let it crack into the back of his opponants kneecap. A crunhing sensation followed as he felt the bone break. and as quick as that he moved off to onew side again. waiting for a reposte of some sort.

 It wasn't initially he realised he had won, the fire's of combat burned inside of him and he wanted a little more action. But seeing the young man on the floor unable to stand wasn't how he realised it was over, it was when blood ran to cover the eyes that had been staring at him so much. the fall must have been a hard one.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:03, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

Fatimah watches the two knights from a safe distance, but intently. Seeing what she can learn about them and what she can apply to her own style. Sword against spear was an interesting combination.

Gabriel fell: his leg brought out from under him, pain lancing up through his thigh and down through his calf. His eyes wide, beneath the crest of his helm, as the off-balanced warrior fell back toward the dirt. He hit, with a crash. His brigandine made little sound - but that great helm of his clattered as it struck the training yard. Gabriel felt it's edge bite into his brow, felt it draw blood.... And as he pulled himself up to a seated position, saw the red run across his vision as it dripped into an eye.

An eye he closed rapidly, looking a rather ghoulish sight with one bloodied eyelid. The other, his unmarred and unbloodied eye, looked on calmly. Blue as the sea as it took in the scene: looking over his battered knee before raising it to regard Ser Ernesto. "You fight like a beast, ser." The young warrior regarded laconically, a simple statement of fact... But perhaps, more a compliment than an insult.

Gabriel grabbed hold of his sword with his left hand, propping it up with its tip to the ground - using the blade as a makeshift cane as he pulled himself upward. Gabriel struggled, refusing to lay still on the ground and bleed. His left leg responded painfully, but he felt that if any weight were put on it it might collapse. His vision swam as he stood, no doubt brought about by the impact his head had took when he fell.

"A good match." He suggested passively, before beginning to hobble away, torn brown cloak trailing behind him.

In reply to Gabriel Laurent (msg # 122):

Once the combatants have finish several of the knights, solders and men come over to give there support to both the warriors. The fight was fantastic in the field of battle there are winners and then the dead, but amongst fellow brothers there is just the knowledge that they have become better by the experience.

Praying and giving support the courtyard quickly gets crowded with the men belting out "well done! ... Well Done ".... "good show!".

Ser Hassan watched with interest from the sidelines as well along side his daughter. The eldest Knight seemed to watch with a disapproving eye. "Learn from this Fatimah," he said to her placing his hand on her shoulder. Hassan was still trying to shape her into a leader of men, something she would one day need to become if she was to inherit all that he had. "Ser Gabriel is right, he does fight like an Animal, which is not necessarily a good thing, an fierce fighter yes, but 'animals' can be baited, lured, trapped," this was not necessarily a jab at Ser Ernesto's character but a policy to tactics in general.

Accepting the praise and question as one Maester Archibald offers the only answer he has.  ”I can not say when we will depart, that decision will be made by the Lord, I can only tell you when we will be ready to depart which should be within a few hours time at most, to that end I have tasks that must be attended.”

His duty here concluded for now the Maester returns to his other tasks elsewhere or farther into the keep.

In reply to Archibald Sand (msg # 125):

The 'Hold' is busy and the lord has said in 3 days they will head out, BUT the new news is that they will be traveling by ship to Blackhaven 1st, and then from there by land to King's Landing.

He looked at gabriel as he commented on his own fighting style. "I stated that i was not holding back. Perhaps you should have been the same way" The knight said as he stood to brush himself off. He had no visable injurys but a hidden bruise was a reminder to his pride. He was getting old and soon he would be useless. He was not a man to train others but one to beat them down and he knew it. Age would eventually rob him of this.

"Seek out the maester and that leg should be healed shortly" he said as a single compasionate thing. He turned to the crowd of people tghat were watchingt hem. He didn;t seem to notice them before the rigors of battle making him instinctivly ignore all around. "i hope you all learned a valuable lesson from this". He shouted tro the crowd

 As Strohan passed by the sound of blades clashing gave him reason to pause. Approaching the action he couldn't help but notice one of the men sparing in a courtyard. The familiar look of the armour, the next thing he saw had the stranger on the ground.






 Strohan pushed through the group of people watching. Making his way toward the downed man he stopped in his tracks as the words rolled from the victor.

 Turning he rested the but of his axe down into the dirt. Shield on his back and axe in hand we weighed his thoughts for a moment. He wasn't the type to look for a fight but the idea of spectators learning a "valuable lesson" implied that he had something to teach them. It had been awhile for Strohan, perhaps he needed a one on one lesson.

"Your quite the instructor there. Perhaps you could teach me a thing or two. I'm always looking to improve my own skills..." Strohan paused. He wasn't looking for trouble but there was a part of him that wanted to defend the downed man. After all he was pretty sure he knew them. "Perhaps if this one didn't take much out of you, you have something left for another round?"

Already Strohan was second guessing himself. He didn't need problems from any locals and he wasn't even sure if this man held some sort of clout within his new friends he would be heading North with. All of that was to late now, so he slid his shield around to the front of his left arm while a few others helped his old friend up.

Tilting his head a bit he looked down at Gabriel, "You'll be fine get up"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:28, Mon 11 Aug 2014.

Yes father. Fatimah says considering his words. They probably apply to her on some level. Strong and eager. Was she too eager? But you also can't be too cowardly. You need to strike when there is a chance, but you can't lunge at a false opening, and you need to do all this in the heat of battle. I have a lot to learn then.

As time passes over the next few days:
Fatimah's preparations amount to keeping up with her practice and double checking things that should be done. Drilling and sparing with whoever is willing. Going over her dresses again trying to think about their impression. Pondering how to balance the needs of making a good impression, showing what a lady of Dorne is really like and being ready for trouble. General talking with people she doesn't get to always see and asking about rumors or tall tales about what King's landing is like.

In reply to Ser Ernesto Riquez (msg # 127):

Ser Ernesto hears Strohan Storm chiming in from the sidelines, ....

The buzz at the castle are the two ships just off the shores of Kowlyn land. One flys the colors of a Iron Island house - Saltwind and the other is unknown. Lord Kolwyn seems not to be phased at the ships, as the rest of the people are up at arms about why they are here. His focus was getting everything ready to leave to King's Landing.

As the next day approaches Lord Kolwyn tells the servants of the house that select goods and needed supplies were to be taken to the docks. Later that day he announces that the family will be traveling by ship as the rest travel by land to Blackhaven. The announcement is kept to a minimum chatter, and those that now know are told to not share this with anyone. The secret business seem to be more common with the lord and he seems to share less with those around.

When she hears Gabriel was injured, Ashara rushes to the field. She knows a bit about healing, and takes a look at her bodyguard's wounded leg. "Oh seven, Gabriel, you've been hurt!" She waves over Maester Archibald. She walks with Gabriel, offering support if he needs it to help walk, though not doing so unless he indicates she should, since she doesn't want to shame him.

The next few days were mostly spent helping her mother and father arrange things for the trip and trying to make Cyra feel welcome. Ashara had packed quickly herself. She also takes the opportunity to fuss over Gabriel a bit and make sure his leg is healing properly.

She is worried by the appearance of the Saltwind ship, as she had had a bad experience with pirates. She asks her father about them, obviously worried.

In reply to Ashara Kolwyn (msg # 132):

Your father seems separated form the rest as everyone is getting ready to head to King's Landing, when asked about the Ironborn he simply replies "they are here because I have asked them here, and you will do your best not to speak of or about them" .....

Interesting enough are the servants sending supplies to the docks, ..... not until the last minute has your father chosen to share that now a few and family will travel by sea. But why the Ironborn?

Gabriel rose first to a knee, hand steadied on his training sword, before he pushed himself up: leg unsteady beneath his weight. Laurent looked bewildered for a moment, as Strohan interceded betwixt him and Ser Ernesto. When he spoke, his voice came uncertainly "Strohan?..." There was a familiarity to the tone, one that cut through both confusion and pain. The warrior moved off, slowly, though he cast a curious glance over his brown-cloaked shoulder as he did. He fell into step with Ashara, but was grateful that she did not lend physical support. It would have been unkind to refuse such an offer, but accepting it would have made him look weak... And young men can be stubborn in matters of pride.

"It's not so terrible as it looks," Gabriel lied "Just stiff, but thank you Lady Ashara."

Still, he hung close to her, though he did not depart far. When he found somewhere to seat himself he did, turning to watch what seemed to be a second match in the making. The "Raindrop Knight" seemed to know this stranger, and also seemed passingly worried over the outcome. If the nervous way his thumb worked at the pommel of his practice blade was any sign.

---

Gabriel spent the next days preparing for the journey. Going easy on his leg. Ensuring his equipment was in order for the tourney. The sort of preparations one would expect a warrior to undergo prior to a tournament. He considered visiting his home at Watchman's Point before the voyage, but ruled it out. He was short time enough as it was to prepare. No time for sentimentalities.

No matter the outcome of Strohan's bout, he also found the other man and spoke with him. Talking about old times and shared experiences. Gabriel seemed to consider him an older brother of sorts, in a way.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:32, Tue 12 Aug 2014.

Ser Ernesto Stopped and looked the man up and down. In side of himself he knew he wouldn;t and couldn;t back down. The fury that and flowed through him in the bout was still there. he was mostly uninjured and could handle a session or two more. But this was something new.

He spoke quickly and firmly "Those that look to fight are not worth the fight". It could have been taken as either weakness, an insult or both. Either way Ser ernesto did not care. Fighting was a matter of survival, that was all he aimed to teach. Honour mattered not to the dead afterall. He walked to the weapon rack placed down his spear and left

---

Over the next few days Ser ernesto made his usual preperation s for travel. As in very few if any. Ser ernesto was only seen for his duties, and was more outspoken than he normally was. He avoided the newcomers, and made his distaste of the northmen well known in the taverns, but was catious around them. He would not cause trouble for his lord foir now at least.

 Strohan shook his head as the man walked away. On one side he was glad things didn't come to blows, the outcome of a fight is never known until it is to late. On the other hand for one to think that a lesson could be learned from any other manner then first hand was something he had hoped to show.

 Turning he checked to make sure Gabriel was alright. Seeing him walk away Strohan considered to question the man leaving then realized there was no need. He needed to check on Gabriel.

___________________________________________________________________________________________


Over the next few days Strohan will go through catching up with Gabriel and inquiring about him going to Kingslanding as well as his regular duties
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:17, Tue 12 Aug 2014.

Over the next few days Cyra did her best not to unpack her few belongings; it would make leaving again less hectic. She also did her best to socialize with the new place. If anyone offered her new kinds of food or an equally foreign custom she met it with interest. Of anyone the two people she was most often seen with was Lady Ashara and her bodyguard.

It didn't take much knowledge of Dornish custom to see that people were uneasy about the new Ironborn ships, particularly her new friend Ashara. At one point staring out at the sea Cyra asked Dio Diosanta in Myrish, "It were as though these Iron Men are pirates."

Dio grunted, "Pirates are loyal to nothing beyond their ships. These are Privateers.""

Cyra looked up at him, looking grim for the first time in weeks, "Does that make them any less dangerous?"

"Is a saber less dangerous than a scythe, Little Plum?"

"It would depend on the wielder."

"It is so with sailers."

They stood in silence for a while before Cyra cracked a smile once more, "It is good that the Dornish are the ones with the wine."</i>

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Scene:6 Group:1

Each player receives 1 experience

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This message was lightly edited by the GM at 14:59, Mon 18 Aug 2014.