Robena hefted her axe from her shoulders and brought it down in front of her. She thought for a moment, patiently rehearsing the action in her head, before breaking into a slow, loping run.

She'd always thought that the principles of mounted combat still applied even when on foot. Reach, weight, speed. It was the same way monsters fought. A sword and shield were so... situational in comparison. A highly technical combination that required so much skill and precision to pull off, skill that by no means everyone carried with them. Perhaps a grandmaster swordswoman would be able to perform a perfect sidestep of her incoming charge, or perform an angled parry with her shield that perfectly diverted the force of it. Bards told of such things. She'd never seen it herself.

She held the axe like a spear, the blunt metal tip of it held straight and she pushed all of her strength and her charge into it. Her opponent caught it on her shield but she was no mythic blademaster and her shield bore no ancient enchantments. Instead she simply took the impact of a horse's kick to the arm and went over backwards. Robena didn't slow, using her opponent's shield to keep her blade arm away and pinned under her body as she fell. She took the Azure Knight's helm by the crest with her right hand and pulled - and her mailed left came up in case it was needed to close the matter out.

[Single Combat: 12. All 4 on position]

"If you can find a tree ..." Nin looks around to see if she can spot any in these flat, monotonous fields. "If not, you'll have to just hit it hard to draw its attention, then run like hell. I'll hide in a furrow—" Plenty of those, at least "—and you lead it right over where I'm hiding. I'll shove a sharpened spike up its gut as it passes above me. That should distract it enough for you to get in a second shot. If that doesn't make it think twice ..."

Perhaps she could find something poisonous to smear on the stick, even. Although these fields likely held mostly crops. Not much to work with, but you never knew what poisonous weeds or venomous critters might be hiding among the stalks.

Tristan is momentarily flustered by the lack of trees - he's been too focused again. He could have sworn... but no. He had only seen it in his mind's eye. "This is a tunneling creature, and large enough that I suspect it can dig as fast as I can run. I fear it would go under you, not over. Then there would be nothing to stop it from coming beneath me while you hide. And I cannot shoot it while it is underground. It holds all the advantage here." His voice catches in his throat. "I made mistakes in haste."

He's not hiding his frustration - had he learned nothing from his communion, so obvious in hindsight? No, he had learned something. "We should ask Constance about rain, to sodden the soil and draw it out. Find a suitable venom in the meantime, and maybe a barrel of honey to use as bait."

Tristan is about to suggest seeing if he can't fell it in one shot, but the thing is huge. Normal badgers have hides thick enough to soak bee stings. He doesn't like his chances with arrowheads against that hide. "I do not like to leave it, but it is fed for today. This is not a failed hunt, but a successful scouting."

Nin frowns. He's not wrong. Who really could say whether it would chase him on the surface or dig down to come at him from below.

"There are some trees over there," she points off in the distance, perhaps too far away for Tristan's liking, "but if you don't like our chances, then I'll stay and keep an eye on it while you head back for what we need."

“It was...” Oh, Constance, listen to you! How your voice trembles! How lovely you are, even unwittingly! Your distress makes you seem like a tree trembling in the wind, even as you shade your eyes to watch the thrilling conclusion of the joust. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Robena
[The azure knight, still cursed, spent 2 on position and lost, doing no harm to you, suffering one in return.]

A bundle of long red hair flies loose from beneath the helm, and beneath that a ruddy face not dissimilar in shape to Cerwen's. The woman in this armor is no priest though, and her arm took the full blow of your axe. She is alive through that, which is no mean feat, but her arm is certainly broken near the elbow and she'll have to spend the next season in a splint doing no work so she can recover. She may not even be able to travel from Lostwithiel without risk of great injury. Still, you are victorious and though this is not the outcome you may have sought, it was achieved honorably and all could tell that the azure knight chose to take the blow head on and suffer its consequences.

For a moment, the azure knight looks stunned. The shock of the blow, her helm being wrenched off, the sudden noise of the crowd and the bright light. Then, she looks at you and a torrent of words starts pouring out: "what in bloody blazes? How did I get hre? Who let a great bear like you into the tournament? Ah! My godsforsaken arm! Nobody said anything about this, they didn't! This was supposed to be an easy tournament, gods, who calls this a knight's penance, I want to know?"

She looks weak and like she's near to passing out from the shock. Above the cheers of the audience, you hear a strangled cry from the stands near the Duchess, Cerwen for certain. The resemblance is far too close, they're obviously family. A cousin, maybe even a sister.

What do you do now?

Constance

Cerwen's attention is not closely enough on you to obtain any reassurance. Instead, as the two knights clash you are treated to Cerwen nearly leaping out of her seat. You see her clutching where her cross would have been and then realizing it's not there in a sudden panic. She must not have had time to fetch a more humble one before the tournament. Was she going to try and do something to manipulate the results? No matter though, you see your champion shatter the azure knight's defense and rip off her helm. An explosion of red hair comes loose and she falls backwards into your champion's arms. She's saying something, and Cerwen has let out a loud, strangled cry right next to your ear. You can tell she's full of grief and fear. The Duchess Marianne and her master at arms are looking over in alarm.

What do you do?

Tristan and Nin

The commotion at the castle happened while you were busy traveling overland. Now, as you let it go, you are treated to the sight of the great badger opening a new tunnel. It's a majestic sight. Discarding the remaining wheat stalks, it uses its claws in two great, sweeping motions to rend away a mound of earth. Then, claws before it, it begins to heave the earth to the side. It's magical, even for all its strength, the creature shouldn't be able to part the earth at this speed, yet the sight as it digs is like nothing more than watching a curtain of soil part at its claws. After a brief moment, it digs away at a speed that belies its bulk leaving only small traces of its tunnel line. You would guess that a trotting horse could keep pace with it, but you'd have little chance on foot, so if you continue to track it now, you'll need to rely on your endurance to catch back up to it wherever it stops next.

One thing to observe, it goes no closer to the forest in its tunnel, instead paralleling the fields based on how you saw it enter the ground.

Speaking of the forest, if you don't care to return to the castle, it holds much of what you need. Finding venoms would be a difficult woodcrafting skill, but certainly within the talents of both of you, especially Nin who has particular experience with the woodlands. Honey is even easier, your biggest fear would be a few bee stings, and you can ward most of that off with a couple smoking brands, but it should take only a short time to find. For a second bow, you'd need to return to the castle, where you'd arrive back around the middle of the night if you made a straight shot for it. You could, though, check with the local farmers, see if someone has a hunting bow. The road has scattered villages lining it, you'd easily hit at least a small group of people within a half hour's hiking. Though be careful arriving at night, they'll need some signs that you're safe and not there to hurt them.

The forest at night may also have other dangers, though none you know of so dangerous as the great badger. Still, it refused to approach the forest even though you, Tristan, know that it wants dearly to have such environs as its surroundings, so that too is a reason for caution.

"Lady Selzi advised me on more than one occasion that I should respond to such insults by demanding a duel," Robena mused. "Given that I have just vanquished you in one I remain unclear how this was meant to solve the problem."

She frowned as a memory crossed her mind - Lady Selzi standing in the same place as her, victorious but spurned by a Greek who declared her a savage and barbarian despite her superiority at arms. Her solution had been to kick the woman in the side of the head in a riposte that everyone had found extremely funny at the time - Selzi always had exceptional comedic timing. But in the same situation now, with the same opportunity, she finds the thought of imitating her lady uncomfortable.

"Good luck with the arm," she mutters instead and slouches away to discipline her horse.

[I again demand my right to be known by reputation - and I have rolled a 6]

Curiouser and curiouser. There's no doubt that what he feared is what would have happened - they needed height.

"Honey, venom and a bow." He repeats. Maybe some tools to make a simple hunter's blind with, at least rope for lashing a platform. Ask whoever they take the bow from. "We go together. You lead, and I will follow. If we are swift, we should have what we need within the hour." He's firm on that one. Whatever safety he felt in splitting up disappeared when the badger stayed out of the forest, even while burrowing.

Still...

"It helps that I can think of none swifter."

Caution is not the same as doubt.

As loath as she is to let the badger get out of their sight, there's currently not much they could do anyway. Also, getting a look at that forest is looking more and more tempting. There's surely some reason the badger avoids it, and in finding out why they may also find the solution they need. Nin voices as much as she leads the way towards the forest. "If it came from the forest and was driven away, perhaps we can find out why and return it to the forest. With some luck."

Tristan's happy enough to go in the forest at this point, just not alone. Eyes and ears open.

Oh, Constance, how your fingers find their place. They are pale like white stone, like the forgotten statues in Bath. Under your fingertips, Cerwen's palm is wet with fear. It is your turn to be strong; you lean over Cerwen, your murmurs as meaningless and gentle as the song of the river as it dances over the rocks in the spring sun. Look, you intimate, look: your blood lives yet. From the same root you came, and you have not been cleft yet, not yet, not yet. This you know, this you can do; you touch her as if she were Palug, you calm that hot blood, you are strong because she is weak, because she needs a hero, and you are no knight, Constance, no skill at arms you can claim, but you are kind. That is strength.

[Constance rolls a 8 and warmth, faith, returns to Cerwen. You may take it as you will.]

Robena

As you unceremoniously leave the Azure knight to her wound, with the Duchess's assistants coming out to help remove her from the field, you hear her suddenly start to laugh uproariously before it becomes too much and she faints entirely as she's carried away. What story did the bard Yomdaelar tell that she must have encountered before the effects of her curse set in to cause her to laugh so at seeing you slouch away?

Constance

Cerwen suddenly slumps into you, her wine forgotten. It's all you can do to support her sudden weight, and it's like all the strength has gone out of her. She begins to stammer. "I...I...she's my younger sister, you see, left to squire years ago, I've barely seen her, but she took service with Uther, and I came here, I thought, I thought Robena was going to kill her and...and, oh Father, I didn't know what to do, but she's going to be okay, right? Should I rush to her side, I...I just...I..."

Your hand, holding hers in kindness, is the most adamant stone. As she stay with her and Cerwen lets out her relief in a stream words, she finally realizes the urgency with which she's been clutching you. Sheepishly, shyly, she blushes and gently releases your hand. It's a relief, at the least, the blush brings with it some color to her pale cheeks and she meets your eyes with a sudden honesty that you haven't seen from her before. "Thank you" she says, and smiles genuinely.

With this small crisis in hand and the need for the Azure Knight's removal, if ever there were a time to petition the Duchess, this is it.

Tristan and Nin

You are not ten steps into the forest before you realize that something is immensely wrong here. The soil is damp and rotting, the smell is sickly sweet and cloying and it makes your noses wrinkle in disgust. The damp soil has impressions in it as well, deep, odd-looking hoofprints that seem to sink deep into the ground, yet you cannot perceive any creature nearby. The sound of flying insects is present, but there are no bird calls despite the feast.

Even worse, despite taking a scant ten steps, you cannot see the exit from the woods. It being night, it is as though you've walked for minutes at off angles and now the trees and mossy shrubs surround you on all sides.

Tristan, you may try to understand the unnatural thing you have stumbled into.
Nin, you however, may not try to find your way. The rotting forest is denying you your right to find your way by road or trail. Respond to this denial as you see fit.

You squeeze the priestess’s hand gently and nod. “It’s all right,” you say. What else can you say? “Everything will be all right.” Oh, that’s better. More honest. You only remove your hand once you’re sure she won’t fall to pieces without it. So now it’s time to deal with the Duchess.

It’d be much neater if you had a plan, don’t you think? Yes, much neater. Or maybe something that needed to happen to stop your vision from happening. Or maybe it’s supposed to happen and attempting to fight against it will only bring ruin. And by wind and flower, don’t even think of asking the Duchess if she’s plotting against Uther.

“Your grace,” you say, delicately. “I apologize for my outburst; the vision came over me strongly. The sight of the black and silver standing against the unicorn... it was so terrible that I lost myself.” Not just the fighting, of course, but the dire implications. “It may still be averted, I think, if we are wise...”

You study the duchess not out of suspicion but out of instinct. Only a fool of an apprentice blinds herself to the world around her, and you have grown up, yes, look at you. How your eyes linger on her neck, her gaze, the grip of her fingers upon the chair. But is there anything to be read there, daughter of rivers?

[Marvelous! You have rolled a 6. So tell us, Marianne, what do you intend to do?]

[6+2+1 = 9]

Tristan holds Nin's shoulder - gentle, reassuring, and making sure they don't get seperated when he closes his eyes. He breathes through his mouth, deep and with his stomach muscles. He holds the air in his lungs and feels for changes in his thoughts as he absorbs it, if it blunts his mind. He listens. He feels the flow of air on his exposed skin for it intensity and direction. He opens his eyes again.

What is this?

Mm. Yomdaelar.

You see, the Nightingale of Pest - a name I have nobly declined to comment on - has decided that she needs a Heroine. A Beowulf, an Odysseus, a Gilgamesh; a figure of legend who will ensure she is remembered through the ages. Accordingly, she would never say anything to make me look even the slightest bit bad. Intentionally. Her, er. Her prose involves a great deal of lingering on the diamond tears, as hot and salty as Poseidon's kisses that spring unbidden from amidst eyelashes as long and dark as Ethiopian scimitars as I contemplate injustice or pine for my lady love or suffer through the temptations of midnight-veiled seductresses who seek to pull me astray from the path of nobility and so on. If one finds terminally lavender prose comedic then one will have much to laugh at.

We have travelled together for some time. An involuntary arrangement on my end. I managed to give her the slip in Paris, but I have no doubt she is less than a week behind me. Her Paramofuff is almost as enamoured with Apricot as Yomdaelar is with the money my tales of adventure will make her, and she is a horse as swift as the breeze.

It is generally assumed that you cannot get lost - or at least, not get any more lost - if you do not move. And it is often better to stay in one place and await being found than to wander aimlessly and get yourself even more lost, or worse, wander into danger unseen.

So Nin wisely sits down and crosses her arms and legs with much outrage at this indignity. If this land denies her, she will begrudgingly accept it ... but just because the body doesn't move doesn't mean the spirit has to stay still, and Nin is not about to accept such an affront without something in return. She will get to the bottom of this place, even if her spirit has to dig down through the muck to find it.

She will forgo her right in return for the right to step out of her earthly life and journey in other places

Rolled 2+5+1 = 8 in case this is acceptable.

Constance

The Duchess Marianne looks extremely concerned. Her lips purse, and she almost lifts a hand as if to run it through her perfectly arranged blond hair before catching herself. Presently, she lets out a breath and looks you up and down carefully. "You'll need to depart at once. We are not prepared for such an assault and we lack the resources here. Moreover, if you were present in your own vision, it cannot come to pass until your return. I am tasking you with the quest to avert this disaster."

She nods and then turns to Timothy, her master at arms. "See to it that any equipment and provisions that the Lady Constance requires are made available to her for her trip. And, I think, take Sir Robena with you. She has only just returned but she is the strongest of our knights and will ably protect you. If you have need of anything else, you have but to ask."

Well then Constance, your lady and liege wants you to prepare to depart your home. What do you say to her proposal?

Robena

As you lead Apricot from the field for a much-needed rest, you are greeted by the Duchess's master at arms, hastening down the stairs. Despite his beard, he's young for the job, and you might remember him from when he still came barely above your waist. In fact, it might be that you even taught him a few things.

"Sir Robena!" He pants, catching his breath. "My...my utmost apologies. The lady Constance has had a dire vision and the Duchess has, in the midst of the competition, instructed her to prepare for departure at once, recommending you for her bodyguard and accompaniment. I know you have only just returned, but if you could begin preparations to make ready, the Countess has asked that you depart as soon as possible. Please forgive the sudden intrusion."

Well, it's obviously urgent, he ran down from the stands to catch you before you departed. Maybe you'll at least keep ahead of Yomdaeler for a few more days though. What's your reaction to the sudden development?

Tristan

There is something here, some great creature. It is connected to the King and his men. It should not be here and that it is nevertheless is the source of the wrongness that angers the forest and makes it dangerous and hostile. This is a thing of the very oldest ways. Remember: as the king, so the land. As the land, so the king.

Your contemplations are cut short by the sound of Nin behind you collapsing unconscious to the ground. She is breathing, but she will not awake. What do you do?

Nin

You are pursued! You hiss and run, heedless of the direction, seeking cover. You crash through trees that look like matchsticks. The damp canopy sprinkles drops of dew along your back. Your scales are cold and uncomfortable without the sun, you cannot stop. You dig your paws into the damp soil, and heave with your furry, tanned legs, urging your spotted speckled body forwards. Run! Hide! Eat! Your stomach rumbles loudly, the sound like boulders crashing down a hill and you gaze about for something to devour after your terror. The prey here is so tiny. You rut a badger out of its lair, but it runs off and you cast about for other prey, your fangs glistening with your hunger.

Time passes, you find small things to eat, but that sense of being pursued returns to you. You cannot be caught, not ever. You want to run! You want to destroy! You are a great chimera, free and full of rage and ruining all that you touch!

Tell us how you burst onto the scene in front of Tristan!

Robena and Apricot are in this moment a single creature, bonded by the perfect harmony that unites the most legendary of riders. Together they stare in wistful, forlorn longing at the festival - at the dancers, at the bar, but most yearningly at the little store that sells honey-dipped apples. It is the kind of stare that does indeed merit some ridiculously overwritten commentary about tears, eyelashes and the contemplation of injustice.

But they have a duty. And so the sweet-toothed duo give a synchronized sigh before Robena mutters some sound of acknowledgement and leads her horse away to re-unite with Constance.

Collapsing unconscious is a bit different to going into meditation. Normally his first response would be to recline her, raise her head. Check for fever. This is strange and hostile terrain though - right now his assumption is poisoning or another attack through subterfuge. He takes a cloth pouch that had trail mix in it, earlier in the day, and pulls it over his nose and mouth like a horse's feedbag, looping its strings behind his ears. It might still be foul air, close to the ground.

Tristan slings Nin against his back, parallel to his quiver. He draws his knife and gets ready to bushwhack - this is obviously what could scare the badger.

He had assumed it was human encroachment. How confused must the spirits be, to fight themselves like this?

He'll rely on instinct and intuition to guide him out. Sense and reason have no place here.

[I rolled a 5, 6 +1 = [b]12[/b] on Weird, with my question to the world being "which way to escape?" I think that much success gives me followups which, uh, I'll probably need.]

Constance!

There is a girl. She is young, barely budding, and quite ordinary, as things go. Her name is Bethany. You don’t want to leave your house in her care yet; she’s too young, the time’s not right. But what else can you do? After this tournament, you will return home; you will pack for travel, and pack lightly at that, for you are a daughter of giants and the Avon, and you demand the world bear fruit all around. (After all, feeding you is one way that those around you may give thanks for good food and quiet rains.)

But right now your head is whirling. In a time that is not this time, at dusk, you will trace swirls in the dirt, the great veins of Britain, and you will toss the stones upon them to see where they lie, where you are driven: to wild Lothian of the north, to the mist-haunted Isles of the west, deeper into fair Logres and nigh on to London Town in the east, or even the lesser Britain, that being Brittany, across the waters in the south. You will go as you are bid, and take what you may from your fate.

And you are to take Sir Robena, recently returned, strongest of your lady’s knights. All of a sudden it comes crashing upon you: it was Robby. Oh, oh, you have been beastly, haven’t you? You didn’t even recognize her! You will absolutely have to apologize. But does she need to know? Perhaps if you continue to be a little distant she will never guess and you can avoid that shame. Yes. Act as though nothing happened. That’s the way.

So when you see the knight coming along with her well-beloved nag, you incline your head, just so. “Our liege has requested that you accompany me on a...” Call it what it is, Constance. “A quest. We must seek out a way to ward off coming disaster. Thank you for your service.” There, wasn’t that easy? No need to grovel for her forgiveness.

[Constance’s consultation will be a 10 on where her destiny will take her and Sir Robena.]