Chapter 86: The Joust III
(Firmridge, the Riverlands)
The final day of the tourney was a mix of frenzy and excitement as everyone looked on at the jousting grounds with anticipation for what was to come.
Ten riders had managed to make it past the first day of the joust, most prominent amongst them were Lorimas Mudd, Oberyn Martell, Baelor Hightower, Raymond Feld, and Gerion Lannister.
There was of course the surprising presence of one of the mystery knights, wearing a yellow and black checkered pattern and who had previously managed to beat back all competitors.
The dark horse had become a crown favorite with his relentless pursuit of victory.
It should be noted that the presence of so many mystery knights in a singular tournament was nearly unheard of.
Those that were unseated had been revealed to scions of noble houses, rogue sons of the rising gentry, and even a few Ironmen who sought to regain some of their reputation amongst the mainlanders.
Still, many had managed to partially achieve their goals for entering, those who conducted themselves well were knighted and allowed entry into service by their impressed opponents, interested lords, or even the King himself.
Not all succeeded, a portion of these 'knights' were little more than amateurs who found themselves sustaining injuries or in some cases outright crippled due to their ineptitude.
A clear indicator is the difference between those who earned their positions as knights and those who were given it when they met the minimum requirement.
A particularly significant example was one of the heirs of a prominent noble who had been crippled due to his lack of ability, it remained unknown whether he would continue his position as heir or would be disowned by his furious father.
Regardless that loss would haunt the arrogant lordling for the rest of his life, that many were sure of.
…
Oberyn strode over to his steed with a confident gait, wearing the colors and sigil of the house proudly for all to see, a smile layered his face as he predicted the response of those watching once he came out victorious.
Erlend had cautioned him moments ago, his brother-in-law had been deadly serious.
"Don't do anything stupid"
"Come now my friend, you know me."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"Relax my friend. I will be fine."
"Just be careful of that mystery knight, his presence does not bode well for either you or my Uncle."
Even now Erlend was far too cautious for his liking. There were times when that man was as free as the wind, charming and carefree while others where he would make the old lion and thorny grape green with envy in his plots and schemes.
If his brother hadn't his stick so far up his ass, Oberyn was sure that those two would get along, or kill each other. You could never tell with those types.
His squire helped him mount his horse before making his way to the grounds. A good lad, unfortunately, his sister had made it clear he and his paramour would not touch the boy.
One of the queen's handmaidens was infatuated with the oblivious lad, and she wanted to help the girl get her man, so they weren't allowed to ruin him.
A shame really, he would've loved to test him out.
The first joust of the day would be his, facing him was none other than Ser Breakwind himself. The Hightower heir still smarting over his loss in the melee and looking quite angry with him.
Say what you will about the reachman but he was still a formidable opponent, he hailed from a land where Tourneys were as common as the crops and the greenery that filled it.
Oberyn wasn't the greatest of jousters, though that didn't mean he couldn't win this. It just meant it would be slightly more difficult.
Making his way to the ground, he waved at the crowds, sending them into a frenzy of cheers and screams.
Some booed at him, while most chanted his name.
Baelor was not without supporters from the crowd, though they mostly came from the Reach and interestingly enough, the Westerlands.
Picking up his lance, Oberyn moved to position and stared at Baelor right in the eyes.
"Your Majesty. Lords and Ladies of the Realm. Today we shall usher in a new era of chivalry and honor." The herald declared pompously, silencing the crowds as they listened intently to his words. "Before you are two of the best knights this realm has to offer, only one shall move forth to the next stage and attain victory."
"Representing the Principality of Dorne is none other than Prince Oberyn Martell, one of the foremost warriors the realm has to offer, and honoring the Green Realm is Ser Baelor Hightower, a true son of the Mander." the crowd cheered as the herald hyped both distinguished competitors up.
Oberyn raised his lance, his concentration at an all-time high, awaiting the herald's signal.
As soon the order came, both stallions charged, his lance scrapping the reachmens shoulder and causing the Knight to lurch backward, before righting himself properly much to his annoyance.
Returning to their positions, Oberyn casually took the lance handed to him by his nervous squire. Awaiting for the next order to move.
This will take a bit, unfortunately.
…
The prince's lance hit right onto the center of Baelor's shield, the sheer force behind his attack made the Hightower heir stumble atop his horse. Had his shoulder not been battered by the Prince's previous tilts, the man may have been able to catch himself.
A shame that it was not the case, as he finally fell off his horse once the lance hit true at its target.
Erlend observed the jousts as they continued, there was some desire in him that wanted nothing more than to jump on his horse and run them all down with his lance, but he kept himself steady, lest he do something incredibly stupid.
A side-effect of the immense magic that now filled him, power came with a price. It always did.
It was now far more difficult to stay still, his body constantly in motion, desiring action, and movement and to free itself from the boundaries that shackled it.
Come to think of it, it was not too dissimilar to the Riordan demigods.
This was an unexpected side-effect of his bond with his Dragons and the strengthening of his magic. Most of these effects had already been rendered irrelevant by his adaptability, but it did not seem to consider his now near-limitless energy as a danger to himself.
Which was fair, he doubted he'd be able to keep up with his whole harem otherwise. Any other man would've been sucked dry truth be told.
Hell's, his imprints had heard that a cult had been gathering followers, who worshipped him as a love god of all things.
The sheer ridiculousness of the situation amused him to no end.
He watched the next joust with an expectant look as his Uncle sent Thoros of Myr reeling to the ground, how the red priest had made it this far without fail was a mystery on its own.
Jorah Mormont found himself beaten by the mystery knight, the man would not win the Hightower girl's attention it seemed. Good for him, such a marriage was doomed from the start and they were hardly fit for each other.
Leyton would not agree to a wedding between a northerner and his daughter unless that northerner was the Stark heir.
This was Westeros, age gaps hardly mattered.
He frowned as his magic seemed to react to the presence of the Mystery Knight, it was warning him about the checkered man, that he could guess easily.
It wasn't that he was a threat to himself, few in Planetos presented a threat to his existence. No, it stirred at the danger the man posed for his kin and yes he did consider Oberyn kin, despite his pr
This man whoever he was had ill intentions for those close to him. Something was shielding him, though its protections were quickly crumbling at the sheer weight behind his probes.
He would not be able to touch his family, it was impossible to do so with how many spells, charms, and runes that practically drowned the keep all tuned to keep his family safe and their people influenced to be more loyal.
Their existence was explained away as mere designs and intricacies that aimed to honor the Mudd's first men heritage.
Oh, how Erlend would've loved to kill him immediately, it was unfortunate that by the time he noticed him it was too late, he was far too high profile to go missing.
Still, he was unaware that Erlend was already aware of his existence, the knight seemed far too confident in himself.
Whatever masked his existence seemed to allow the man to temporarily escape his gaze, one of the gods of this planet he assumed. They were the only ones that were part of this world that could do so.
It was not the seven, he knew that for sure, they seemed to favor him despite his lack of belief, nor was it the old gods for they were content with their northern territories.
Whatever entity it was, it seemed unable to warn the mystery knight of the danger he was in and the protection failing, perhaps it expanded far too much power.
That gave him a better idea of who could be behind this bastard.
His Uncle was also aware enough to be cautious once he had warned him of the issue, he wasn't going to act like an imbecile and leave the man blind to a potential risk. One only needed to remember the canon Oberyn's grisly death to realise that.
Regardless since he was here, it mattered not, let the fool play his game, his time would come soon and the runes on his Uncle's armor would hold, he was sure of that.
With his magic primed at the ready for anything, Erlend watched intently as his Uncle's and the checkered Knight's round was announced.
Let's see what you're up to little pawn.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
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