HS&S:WT Short

[sabremeister]

Tournament

It was the first time all three finalists in Jenvar's Tournament were all women. The first few rounds of the Tournament had been the usual mix of male and female warriors, but the Tournament's unique rules had caused more than the usual number of men to be eliminated this year. It didn't matter what your preferred weapon was, nor did it matter if you could ride or not. Each and every entrant was handed a new blunted weapon at the start of each round, and you had to ride while fighting. This was probably just as well, as Jenvar's position high in the mountains of Yalkat meant there was almost always snow covering the arena floor. This was a particularly cold winter, though, and the snow had hardly stopped falling, blanketing the arena in a several inches-deep carpet.



It the red tabard, Delenn, of the Sword Sisters, a religious order sworn to protect those women who worked in the temples during the Festival of Kos, was looking uneasy with her shortbow. Across from her, her red hair dropping loosely down her back, was Xarinia in a blue tabard, holding lightly the blunted shortsword she'd been given. And finally, equidistant from the others in a yellow tabard, was Lyselle, looking severely pissed off that she'd been given a quiver of blunt javelins. They each eyed each other warily, keeping an eye on the grand box where the Lord of Jenvar would, any second now, be dropping the weighted cloth that would signal the start.

The rules were simple – once the cloth was dropped, you could do anything you wanted except fight on foot, or purposefully kill someone. The last person standing (or, more accurately, riding) was the winner. You could dismount and pick up a discarded weapon, you could use your horse to trample an unhorsed opponent, you could even discard your weapon and use your fists if you thought there was any mileage in it. Last year, the first round had seen a berserker throw away his sword with enough force to unhorse the person it had hit, and proceed to wipe the floor with everyone else by hitting them with his shield. He'd been given a bow in the next round – he broke it over a swordsman's head and took the weapon out of his unresisting hand. Sword Sisters usually ended up quite high in the rankings.

Delenn experimented a few more times with the best way of holding the bow and the reins at the same time as she tried not to shiver. Xarinia didn't bother to hide how cold she felt – her breath steamed from her mouth, and her cheeks almost matched the colour of her hair. Lyselle was mentally preparing herself for the coming fight and keeping herself warm by swearing under her breath at everything under (and including) the unduly weak sun.

The cheering reached a crescendo. The Lord of Jenvar dropped the cloth. There was a moment of silence. Then Delenn raised her bow and loosed off a quick shot before spurring forwards, Xarinia made her horse rear before letting it leap forward, and Lyselle hauled her horse to the right and into a gallop. The crowd started cheering again.

Delenn's first shot missed Xarinia by a few feet. When she saw her opponent's horse coming straight for her, she tried to turn to her left, but she couldn't do that and aim at the same time. Xarinia's horse barrelled into hers, her blade following immediately afterwards. Delenn's horse was knocked sideways with the impact, and Delenn herself was almost doubled up by the force of the blow, with all the speed and weight of the charging horse behind it. Delenn tried to kick her horse away, but it was having none of it, and she used her bow to block Xarinia's blows, and tried to hit her with the tips.

Lyselle reined in at the far wall of the arena, and turned to face the other two. As she'd hoped, they'd left her alone, which meant she could take her time and line up her throws properly. The first two javelins missed, despite the proximity of the two targets, but the third hit Delenn's shoulder. She yelped, distracted, and Xarinia took the opening, swiping her sword across Delenn's forehead. Delenn reeled, and this time her horse went with her. Dazed, she could do nothing to stop it wandering up to the arena wall, nor anything to prevent Xarinia riding up behind her for another thunderous blow that knocked her out, unhorsing her.

The crowd went wild as the red-clad warrior collapsed on the ground. This was the sort of thing the crowd had loved from Xarinia for the whole tournament. Now they had seen one finalist easily overcome another, and the third had hardly done anything. They urged Xarinia to finish Lyselle just as quickly as she had Delenn. But in their excitement, they had forgotten that Lynelle had reached the final largely through cunning.

Lynelle took off anti-clockwise around the arena as Xarinia charged. She lobbed another javelin, and noted where it landed – well short and wide. Lynelle threw again. This time it was closer, but Xarinia was closing, so she changed direction. Lyselle kept riding in a figure of eight, hurling javelins whenever Xarinia was close enough. Few hit, fewer did any noticeable damage. This was getting difficult for Lyselle – she'd only had 18 javelins to start with, and now most of them were gone. The crowd were baying for her defeat.

She took a chance and reined in, hard, turning the horse as it reared. She hurled a javelin at Xarinia, who was now very close, and almost head-on. She didn't wait to see it hit before urging the horse forward again, then readied another javelin. She reached the wall, slowed and turned, threw again, and spurred to a gallop again. Last javelin. A sweeping turn to the left, Xarinia closing all the time. Lyselle made a sharp turn to the right, and hurled the javelin sideways. It spun through the air, hitting Xarinia's horse on the head, making it stumble and shy away. Lyselle galloped up to the wall and dismounted. Delenn's body was lying there, her bow next to her. She picked up the weapon, and turned to find Xarinia already bearing down on her. She yelped and ducked under her horse's neck, putting the horse between her and her adversary, grabbed the bridle and urged it into a walk after her. She mounted on the move, staying low to the saddle, and urged the horse faster. She checked, and Xarinia was only a couple of yards off her flank. Lyselle sat up, reined in the horse, and swung the bow backhand at neck height. It slammed into Xarinia's neck, knocking her backwards off her horse. Lyselle shooed the other horse away, and turned her own. Xarinia was scrambling to her feet. Lyselle spurred her horse, and hauled back on the reins. It reared, its' hooves pawing the air. And came down heavily on Xarinia, knocking her cold.

The crowd went wild. They had a new champion of their Tournament.