[D9 EM] As Honour Demands

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

Lorent twisted, the other knight’s blow glancing off his armour, leaving a dent but inflicting no harm to the man beneath. He felt almost as though the Warrior himself reached down to guide his spear as it found its mark once more, a gout of dark blood erupting and splattering in the dirt as he withdrew the point.


—-
Challenge! Fighting 5, +1D Expertise, +3B Spears, +1B Aim, +1 Superior Weapon: 10d6k6+1 29
(9 * 4 degrees) - 7 AR = 29 Damage!

Combat Defense: 8
Armour Rating: 11
Health: 9

[Caim Feyther]

Caim was slowing down, feeling the next blow bury itself somewhere he distantly recognized as vital. He was likely going to die on his spear. He swung again, nonetheless, rather than yielding. Let the man continue and kill him honorably. The other man deserved that. Maybe he was an acceptable husband for his sister... He was certainly capable of defending her.

---

Fighting: 7
2 Wounds (Endurance is 3)

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

Lorent hooked his spear behind Caim’s knee, throwing the older man off balance. Caim landed heavily on his back in the dirt. The Tyrell placed his boot on other man’s throat, “yield, damn you,” he grunted, “you have a wife and children, would you dishonour them, too?”


—-
Challenge! Knockdown, TN9: 4d6 17

[Caim Feyther]

He stared up at the Tyrell knight and let out a bitter chuckle.

"A dishonor on them, or having me as a husband and father. Which is more terrible, I wonder?" After a moment to come to a decision on that, he let out a breath. "I yield."

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

With his eyes cold, "better a cur like yourself than to leave them to fend for themselves." Lorent was an honourable man, but perhaps not the best of men, "a reminder, in case you are the forgetful sort," and he drove his spear into Caim's left palm, breaking bones and severing tendons, the point erupting through the back of the hand to pierce the dirt beneath.

With a snarl, Lorent jerked back the weapon and stepped back, guards coming up to help the fallen knight up.


---
Caim Feyther gains Disadvantage: Maimed Off-Hand
Caim cannot wield a weapon in his off hand. Shields suffer -1 to their Defensive rating due to Caim's poor grip.

[Caim Feyther]

Caim gritted his teeth, grunting as the speartip tore through his flesh. He rolled onto his side and waved the guards off, rising on his own and marching stolidly back to his tent without another word to anyone. He glanced painfully over his shoulder one last time, toward where Alicent was, before disappearing among the pavilions.

[Alicent Feyther]

Alicent let out a breath she didn't know she was holding when her brother left, sitting down in the stands and resting her face in her good hand.

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

Lorent threw down his spear, beginning to unbuckle the scored and dented breastplate that had absorbed Caim's strikes. He carelessly let the chest and back pieces fall near his feet as he drew close to Alicent. "I'm sorry, you should not have had to see that."

[Alicent Feyther]

She raised her head and let out a breath, shaking it, silvery waves falling over her shoulders. "Perhaps, but I did have to see it. I needed to see it resolve." She took a long breath. "Whatever happens from here, that's over."

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

His greaves hit the dirt as he bent to unbuckle them. He looked about, finding his spear and scooping it up and bringing it to her. Lorent dropped to one knee, offering the weapon, "in the name of the Seven, I will always defend you, Lady Alicent, I will give life and limb to keep you safe."