A holy sword. A wyrm. Feasts. Vengeance. God. The Devil. Gluttony.

"Wrath," Alister finished quietly to his compatriots. So, they were on the right tack. All the more reason to be cautious. If this fate had befallen those before them, then...

Alister affixed a smile. "Of course, Sir," he replied, taking on Perin's gamble. "Do we have the honour of speaking to Sir Ferdinand, of whom we have heard such tales?"

Could they even remember their own names?

"You must forgive our ignorance. We are new to these woods, and have not yet been made aware of what has passed between yourself and Sir Guidon. I can only imagine it must have been a great and terrible slight to inspire such fervour in yourself and your fellows. Please, we should be interested to hear it, that we too might be stuck with the fire to join your noble cause."

"No," the Moor replies, "I am the Knight of Vengeance.  So, which of you would like to join or will it be all three of you?"  He seems disinclined to discuss matters with those not in his fellowship.

Perin grunts and inclines his head back the direction in which they came.  It's quite obvious to his brothers that like before, he wants nothing to do with the man before them.  Perhaps they'll have better luck down the third path?

The trio departs without incident as the Knight of Vengeance shows little interest in them if they are not planning to join his fellowship.  Returning for the third time to the initial crossroads, the group makes a right and heads along the overgrown trail.  It is starting to get late and they have been traveling all day when they come to a third clearing.

As with the other clearings, there are two other paths leading from this one, one heading off to the left and the other to the right.  Around the edge of the clearing stand three beautiful pavilions.  A pair of beautiful women peek timidly out of two of the pavilions, while the third stands empty.  In the middle of the clearing a knight sits on a dapple grey Andalusian charger, wearing reinforced chain and full helm.  The knight's shield is pure white.

The knight announces, "Choose one from your number to joust.  We shall fight to first fall for ransom."  The knight's weapons are rebated.

Terms and conditions negotiable should you choose to fight with unrebated weapons, until unconscious, etc.

Jousting, finally something that Perin could wrap his head around!  Turning to Alister, he remarks quietly "What say you brother, would you like the chance to prove your mettle?  It doesn't seem like an obvious trap like the last two, but perhaps that just means it's all the more insidious?" he asks with a grin.

Alister's reply was deadpan. "Thanks, Perin. I always knew you had my best interests at heart."

That said, he had to agree. This did look suspiciously straightforward in comparison to the other two clearings. In all likelihood, the trap wasn't going to reveal itself until after it had been sprung. Yet, if his assumption was right about the paths on either side, attempting to leave was just going to loop them back to where they started.

"Something has to give," he agreed quietly. Out of the three knights present, he knew he was the most expendable. He had no wife, or anyone patiently waiting for his return. "If this goes foul, or turns into a trap, both of you go on ahead." Alister's tone brokered no argument. "Find the wyrm. I suspect what we have seen here today is linked to this creature's influence."

Not waiting for a response, Alister cued his horse, and the young charger trotted forwards to greet the mystery knight with a flash of white legs. Alister took in the details as he went. The armour, the shield, the magnificent dapple grey, and the women in the tents on each side, peering out. Not much here seemed to make sense, but Alister had already learned the answer he was going to get if he tried to ask. Most likely, the Knight had been posted here to defend the women from those wishing to do them harm.

Oh well. He'd tackle that problem when he got there.

"Hail and well met, good Sir," Alister greeted with a respectful nod as he pulled up his horse. "My name is Sir Alister, and I would accept your challenge. With whom do I have honour of crossing lances?"

It was more straightforward than he might have been otherwise, but he'd already learned how far questions were getting him.

Free guess. 'The Knight of the Joust.'
This message was last edited by the player at 00:12, Mon 18 Dec 2017.

"Arnt you a bit cruel to young Alister?" Gracian whispers with a wry smile to his friend while keeping an eye on the mysterious knight. "The poor boy doesnt stand a chance."

When Sir Alister tells them to go on if anything goes wrong he laughs out loud and clap the knight on the shoulder "Nonsense! We have full confidence in your skills, Alister. Yes we know a winner when we see one!" before turning back to Perin whispering "He is doomed."

"I am the Jousting Knight," is the reply.

The knights ride to their starting posts and when the Jousting Knight's lance dips, they charge.  Sir Alister's lance goes wide but the Jousting Knight's strikes true with a mighty blow that throws Sir Alister off of his horse.  He manages to twist in midair and land without further injuring himself.

Sir Alister, rolled 18 using 1d20.  Lance.
Jousting Knight, rolled 12 using 1d20.  Lance.
Jousting Knight, rolled 31 using 7d6.  Damage.
Sir Alister, rolled 10 using 1d20.  Dexterity.
Sir Alister takes 31 - 10 = 21 Damage, a Major Wound, and is knocked off of his horse.  He makes his DEX roll and does not take fall damage.


The joust won, the Jousting Knight dismounts and after ensuring that the young knight is not grievously wounded, beckons Sir Alister to the unoccupied tent as prisoner per the rules of the contest.

Once inside, the Jousting Knight removes her armor to reveal a stunningly beautiful woman (APP 25).  "Remove your armor, Sir Alister and let me take my prize," she says, indicating the bed in the pavilion.

Meanwhile, the two beautiful young women depart their own pavilions and approach Sir Gracian and Sir Perin and offer them company in their pavilions.  Both are extremely attractive and of noble birth.  It is getting late and will soon be dark . . .

Sir Gracian tells Idres to make camp for the night. He has no intention of sleeping with any of these women - not that he is not tempted but his love for Lady Ariette is true.

"Do not go with them Perin. Let Alister have his night and pay what he owes the lady but he does not need us to be ensnared by these ladies. When morning comes we should continue our quest."

OOC: If needed I would like to invoke Passion (Love Ariette-24)

Perin smiles and claps Gracian on the back "Fear not my friend, I had no intention of going anywhere."  And that's entirely true, almost entirely out of his love for Fiona, and only partially because if she ever found out... well, Perin had seen what she was capable of, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was earn her ire.  Odds were that he wouldn't survive it.

OOC: Perin is in the same boat, if need be he'll invoke Love: Fiona to resist the ladies

Once, many years ago when they were children, Alister's older brother had laughed at him, claiming he'd always been far more graceful at falling off a horse than he ever was at riding one. Good to know that even after so long, the cretin was still right.

The lance had hit with the force of a runaway carriage. Alister couldn't precisely say what the damage was, but he could take an educated guess. Pain seared up his shoulder when he went to open the flap to the tent, prompting a sharp wince and hissed intake of breath.

That… that wasn't good.

Then again, what part of this was?

Alister took a deep breath upon stepping inside and inspecting the surroundings. The pavilion itself seemed to contain only one notable fixture; a large bed on one side of the tent. Alister felt his mouth run dry as understanding crept in, but his lip still to twisted into the shadow of a smile of all the same.

Of course. He should have known.

He looked over in time to see the Knight stripping out of her armor, the metal falling to the ground with a sharp clang. She was beautiful. He had to give her that, and his gut gave an unexpected twist at the sight.

"I need to have a word with whoever taught you to joust," Sir Alister managed with a pained smile as his shoulder gave another vicious stab. "It appears I need the lessons."

He knew the request was coming before it did. He just knew. There was something almost conflicted to his expression as — for once — he struggled to think of a response. None of it was good enough. He knew he shouldn’t. Yet, all the knowing in the world didn't seem to help.

“Call be a romantic if you must,” he said apologetically, trying to reach for his armor without aggravating the shoulder. “But I suppose it would be too much to ask to know your name.”

Would she reply? Probably not. That was a grand shame in and of itself. It would go a long way to making her feel more…

Well…

Human.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 12:46, Mon 18 Dec 2017.

"I am Lady Glesri," she replies beginning to remove clothing . . .

Lady Gles—

Alister looked up sharply, abandoning the buckle for the single pauldron he'd donned for the joust.

That was the first straight answer he'd gotten all day, and Alister was suddenly starkly aware of just how hard his heart was pounding inside his chest.

Lady Glesri.

"How did you—"

His head was swimming with questions, and each one wanted to compete to the forefront. The way she was pulling off bits of clothing wasn't helping, and Alister had to rip his gaze away, feeling himself start to grow hot underneath his armour. Taking a second, Alister removed his helm and resting it to the side before he slowly sat down on a corner of the bed, running a hand through his hair and trying to compose his thoughts.

This wasn't—

This wasn't right.

"How did you get here?" he settled on finally, looking up at her. "Is this really what you..."

Well, no. That seemed a stupid question. She'd been the one to say as much. But was that just the magic talking, or was a part of her still in there, somewhere?

She continues to remove clothing until she is only wearing a silk shift that shows off as much as it hides.

"I came searching for my amor, many years ago," she replies as she moves closer . . . much closer.  Sir Alister's eyes are on level with two of Glesri's more prominent and enticing assets and he can smell an intoxicating mixture of lavender and the oil from her armor.

"I think that he is long dead, for I don't even recall his name any longer," she remarks offhandedly as she leans forward to run her fingers through Sir Alister's hair.  The neck of her shift droops, revealing all that lays beneath.  "I would like to see his image once more but right now, I have a rather different desire . . ."

Ohh. That was not—

That was not helping.

Alister forced himself to take a deep breath, gently trying to take the Lady's hand in his own despite the stab of pain through his shoulder. Somehow, the knowledge that she’d become trapped here while searching for a lover made it all the worse. How long had she been here? A year? A decade? A century? The realisation brought a sudden sharp pang.

Think.

Who could she have been searching for?

His heart was still hammering hard enough he could hear it echoing his ears. He could feel that closeness. Her hand was warm, skin soft underneath his calloused fingers. She was by far the most stunning woman he'd ever seen...

And yet...

Alister closed his eyes for a moment, as though drawing strength.

“Sir Peter,” he found himself saying, with some difficulty. “Sir Guidon. Sir Ferdinand.” She might have come looking after any one of them. “They’re here. Trapped, same as you. If I could just—”

Just what, Alister? He didn’t have any answers, no matter how much he wished he did.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:13, Tue 19 Dec 2017.

There is no spark of recognition in her lovely eyes at any of the names.

The stunning woman seems to be tiring of all of this talking.  With Sir Alister holding her hands it seems that using her mouth will be the best way to shut him up, so she kisses him on the lips.

Perhaps having sensed the soreness in his shoulder, she uses the distraction of the rather sultry kiss to pull her hands away from his and she starts to message his bruised shoulder.  Her hands are strong, stronger in fact than the knight's own.  They feel incredibly good and Sir Alister can feel his muscles relaxing under her tender care.  She is forced to remove some of his armor to get at some of the tender areas.

Now what was he talking about?

There was no response to the names. No flicker of understanding.

It wasn't going to work.

He made no move to stop her this time when she leaned in, the fresh smell of lavender clinging to her like a perfume. And oh, she did taste sweet, mouth soft and warm, playful flick of the tongue and nip of teeth, making it impossible to breathe.

That shut him up all right.

There was something almost unexpected in the level of care she was showing him. It was in the way her fingers danced over each muscle, working out the tension, each piece of armor and clothing falling away, forgotten. He’d tensed by instinct the first time her hand found his shoulder, anticipating of a flash of pain, but none came.

This was—

No.

To Hell with it all.

Alister found himself making a noise deep in his throat, his fingers settling across her thighs, running up towards her hip, gently guiding her onto his lap. He leaned in, kissing her hard, tongue pushing inside, and God, he could feel her, the slow sleek swirl of her tongue, feel his own heartbeat begin to pound through his ribcage, thumping against his chest. Fingers twisting through her hair, curving against the base of her scalp, and it's the worst kind of wrong and the best of everything that’s ever been right.

If this was sin incarnate, he wasn't even quite sure if he cared.

OOC: Que fade?
This message was last edited by the player at 23:17, Tue 19 Dec 2017.

Sir Alister and the Jousting Knight retire to the empty pavilion and close the flaps.  After a time, some moaning is heard and the two beautiful young ladies in the other pavilions pad softly from their tents and look over longingly before starting to exhibit the sort of signs one might expect of dogs in heat.  The moaning stops and fortunately there is no indication that Sir Alister is in trouble.

The pair of ladies return to their own tents, giving a last reproachful look at the neutered Sir Gracian and Sir Perin.  However, they fail to properly close the flaps of their respective pavilions and occasionally a glimpse of them bathing, dressing, undressing, and making exciting underwear can be glimpsed.

Sir Perin and Sir Gracian enjoy a lovely, if cold and lonely, night out under the stars, while Sir Alister must endure the warm, soft, and very, very large bed and its occupant.

In the morning, Sir Alister wakes quite refreshed and his shoulder already feels mostly healed.  Lady Glesri lies naked under the covers next to him and seems a bit more talkative.

Sir Perin and Sir Gracian get checks in Neutered Chaste.  Sir Alister gets a check in Lustful.

Alister didn't remember falling asleep. He supposed he had. He didn't remember it being morning the last time he closed his eyes. There was a part of him which hadn't expected Lady Glesri to still be there in the morning. Some enchantment, or some curse, perhaps.

He rolled over towards her with a muffled sound, until he felt her familiar shape, wrapping one arm around her waist and pressing in close. He still felt half asleep before realising he'd rolled onto his injured shoulder. The pain had dulled into a low ache, as though the injury was already months old, and Alister stirred enough to begin to wake properly as the night's memories came trickling back.

"Morning," he said with an easy smile, voice still heavy from sleep. "Didn't know if you'd still be here."

He was glad for that, he supposed.

It made it feel less—

No. That wasn't quite right.

"I'll have to get knocked off horses more often," he mumbled, nuzzling his chin into her hair, trying — and failing — to sort through the questions what were resurfacing from last night.

She was warm. And comfortable. But this was..

It wasn't...

He stirred a little after a moment, one arm still wrapped around her. "Do you remember... anything?" he found himself asking despite himself. "Not about last night. About... how you got here. Or about who you were? Who you were looking for..." It was a final desperate shot, one that he wasn't even sure would work. But the idea of leaving her here to her curse just didn't...

It didn't feel right.

Damn it all.

"I want to help you."

The young woman looks a bit sad, although she snuggles up against Sir Alister.  "I know no more than I did last night."

"It wasn't that spectacular," she murmurs quietly to herself.

"I came looking for my amor some years ago but don't remember his name," she explains.  A little desperately she goes on, "I feel that if I could just see him again or even his image, things would be better,  Maybe I could find peace?" she suggests hopefully.

Tracing a long nail across his chest, Lady Glesri crawls over Sir Alister's naked form rather suggestively.  She gets up, showing that she has not, in fact, become any less attractive.  She sidles over to a table, retrieves something, and returns with her favor.  With a giggle, she ties it somewhere that other knights are not likely to see it.

It took a second for what Lady Glesri meant with her muttered comment to fully register. At least until then, Alister’s perplexed expression was nothing short of priceless. He managed a short laugh once it clicked. “That’s not what I meant,” he’d chided playfully, giving her a squeeze.

The rest, however, was something worth noting. He’d half hoped there might be something she’d forgotten, but it appeared he wasn’t going to get any more information with which to help her than what he already had.

He stayed where he was when she stood, and there was no flicker of shame this time as he watched her move around. He had to quirk an eyebrow when she returned with a favour, and Alister couldn’t help but laugh. "Can't have been that bad, then," he remarked, watching as she tied it off with a flicker of amusement.

That, uh…

That probably couldn’t stay there.

Though, really, he couldn’t stay here either, although not for lack of wanting.

At length, Alister pulled himself up. His shoulder still ached, but for the most part felt more hale than it had the night before. His clothing and armour pieces seemed to have gotten scattered, and took some degree of recovering. “I’ll be back,” he’d said, but he couldn’t promise more than that. He couldn’t tell her when. Or how. If his suspicions about the other two knights in the glade were correct, then…

“Your amor…” he explained finally, taking her hand for the last time. “I think I know where he is.”

It was the only thing that seemed to make sense. The three clearings. The three curses. The damned quest for the sword. They had to be linked somehow. The moor seemed the most likely. Either him, or Sir Peter himself. But there was only one way to know for sure.

The sun was almost painfully bright when Sir Alister stepped outside the tent, Lady Glesri’s favour clutched tight in one hand.  His squire was nearby, looking remarkably like he hadn’t slept all night. Sir Perin and Sir Gracian didn’t look much better. And for a moment, Alister wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed at them for not having gone on ahead like he’d told them, or grateful that they hadn’t.

“We need go back to the Knight of Vengeance,” were the first words out of his mouth, his expression strangely set as he readjusted the buckle of his sword-belt. “I’ll explain on the way…”.

Well…

Maybe not all the details...
This message was last edited by the player at 12:37, Wed 20 Dec 2017.

The group returns to the clearing with the Knight of Vengeance, it has not changed since they were there the prior day.

The knights hadn't acknowledged them this time. In fact, it looked like they hadn't so much as moved from the same place they had been standing the day before.

Frowning, Alister dismounted again, handing Bryant the reins to his horse. He was making a gamble, in truth, but what limited experience Alister had was enough to tell him that women were the ultimate root cause of oaths of vengeance and seething rivalries more times than one would think.

Perin had agreed with his assessment on the ride over, so at least if this failed, both were as wrong as the other.

"Greetings Sir," Alister began, addressing the Knight. "I return on behalf of the Lady Glesri, who seeks to be reunited with her lost armor,” he said, holding out the token of her favour, and praying that he was right.

OOC: Writing posts on mobile is awful
This message was last edited by the player at 11:20, Fri 22 Dec 2017.

Perin and Alister had discussed the matter as the men of Salisbury road along the path.  The younger knight's plan was sound, and Perin couldn't help concur with his conclusion.  There was just something about Lady Glesri's words, wherein she said she wanted to see her amour or his image that struck Perin as odd.  He'd heard many tales of curses being broken when an object was returned to its rightful owner, so perhaps this was a similar situation?  And while the pair had no idea which if either of the two men that they had encountered would be the right one, it cost them nothing to try.

The Knight of Vengeance takes no notice of the returning knights until mention of Lady Glesri, at which point the Moor's head snapped toward them and he subconsciously put his hand to the scars on his face.  Seeing his Lady's favor presented, he accepts it and stands mute for a moment staring at it before announcing, "I renounce my vengeance against Sir Gaidon," looking over at his five fellows, he says, "I release you from your oaths."

Returning his attention to the trio, "thank you, good sir," Sir Ferdinand says to Sir Alister.

EDIT:  Five fellows, not two.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:48, Thu 21 Dec 2017.