The Days and Nights of House Corinthyen

The Prince's Tourney: An Encounter on the Docks

In which Lord Doryc's son arrives in the nick of time.

As Errik walks along the docks, his purchase tucked safely away inside his shirt, he becomes aware of footsteps on the boardwalk behind him. A surreptitious glance over his shoulder reveals two men perhaps thirty feet back. One is tall and whip thin, the other heavy-set, with the broad shoulders of an ox and a belly to match. Turning his eyes back forward, in the direction of the gate, he realizes that he is cut off in all directions: three more silhouettes wait just past the light of the next torch. To his left lies a short stretch of dirt and the city wall, and to his right, the Greenblood.

Errik frowns, tightening his grip on his spear. He looks over his shoulder again to see if the men are armed. The tall one appears to be carrying a hefty club. As Errik looks, the heavy-set one cracks his knuckles.

Boards creak in front of him as the three silhouettes step forward. More street toughs, for certain. A scarred face with a club in hand, a brute with a limp and another club, and a nasty yellow-toothed grin flipping a dagger back and forth between its hands. The third one speaks.

“You seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, milord.” The dagger stops moving and points first at Errik, and then toward the river. “I suggest you strip down and go for a swim in the Greenblood, unless you fancy a few broken bones.”

With sword and dagger drawn, a swarthy man in light traveler’s garb and leather armor steps out from the shadows behind the three men. A smirking grin is visible under his brimmed hat, and he approaches the thugs with even, deliberate steps.

“You gentlemen should reconsider. The odds are no longer in your favor.” He says.

The three men spin around, startled, to size up the newcomer. The man with the dagger spits.

“You count worse than Chubbs, and he don’t count at all. Run along, now, boyo. This don’t concern you.”

The stranger looks up, still smiling. “You’re right. I’m not concerned.” With that, the man springs into action.

{Errik: Agility: 17} {Onri: Agility: 11} {Street Thugs: Agility: 11}

Errik levels his spear at the man with the dagger, a shout of “Corinthyen!” on his lips as he charges him. {Fighting: Spears: 14, Success x2, 8 damage} Errik’s fearless charge catches the thugs’ spokesman by surprise, and the man only narrowly escapes a lethal blow. However, his last-moment sidestep avails him little – the spear’s tip tears a gash in his side, eliciting a spray of blood and a howl of pain.

Seeing the young noble charge the man with the dagger, the stranger turns his attention to the man with the scarred face. With a quick lunge, he thrusts his sword at the robber’s chest, while his off-hand holds his dagger close to his body, ready to parry the counterattack.

{Fighting: Fencing: 17, Success x3, 11 damage} The thug is so surprised by Onri’s…ahem…onslaught that he doesn’t even try to defend himself. The thin dueling blade darts in and out from between his ribs, and the man crumples, his last breath gasping quietly out of him.

The thugs seem to waver for an instant, as if surprised by how deadly the confrontation has turned. The leader recovers first, and attempts to overbalance Errik with brute strength, seizing Errik’s spear and arm and yanking him toward the ground. {Knockdown: Athletics vs. Agility, 11 vs 17, Failure} Errik seems to anticipate this move, however, and nimbly keeps his feet. Unfortunately, he does not anticipate the second yank, this time in the opposite direction. {Knockdown: Athletics vs. Agility, 17 versus 6, Success x2} He tumbles to the ground, the wind suddenly knocked out of him. His spear clatters to the ground a few feet away.

At this point, the brute with the limp wades in, and Errik’s eyes grow large as the man roars, gripping his cudgel in both hands and raising it high over his head. Errik throws his arms up in defense, hoping for the best. {Fighting, 22, Success x3, 3 damage} The wooden club strikes his arm guards with considerable force, but the scale mail proves its worth – he likely will have only a few bruises to remember that blow by.

Meanwhile, the other two thugs rush Onri, heedless of his leveled fencing blade. The thin one gets there first, and swings wildly with his club, but Onri deftly parries the blow. {Fighting, 7, Failure} Then the big man comes lumbering in, swinging a meaty fist as thick as Onri’s thigh. {Fighting: Brawling: 14, Success, 1 damage} Onri tries to dodge, but the man’s aim is unerring, and he lands a blow on the fencer’s armored torso.

With a growl, Errik pulls his dagger from his belt and thrusts it up towards the limping man’s gut. {Fighting, 12, Success x2, 2 damage} The man jerks back out of the way, but just a bit too slowly – Errik scores a shallow cut across his midsection.

As Onri is knocked back from the big man’s punch, he makes a quick slash at the large man, attempting to slice his foe with the tip of his blade. He continues his movement, positioning himself next to Errik. {Fighting: Fencing, 13, Success, 1 Damage} The large man grunts as Onri’s blade tears through the hardened leather under his shirt, and quickly turns to track the smaller man’s movement. Growling under his breath, the thug lets his guard down to put his full weight behind his next punch. {Fighting: Brawling, 25, Success x3, 9 damage, 1 Injury = 6 Damage} Onri’s breath rushes it out of him in a whoosh and he stumbles for a moment. It feels like he’s been just been hit with a battering ram.

The thin man tries to capitalize on Onri’s momentary weakness, lashing out with his cudgel, but the fencer reflexively deflects the strike with his dagger. {Fighting, 10, Failure}

“Damn it,” the yellow-toothed leader says. He appears to be looking down the length of the boardwalk. “Scatter, boys.” Then he looks down at Errik.

“I’m gonna remember you, pretty boy.” He sneers. He tosses the dagger back and forth again, seeming to consider something. Then he turns and runs off into the darkness. As Errik sits up, he sees Areon and Giselle running down the boardwalk toward the fight.

Errik hops to his feet and thrusts with his dagger, catching the limping man by surprise. {Fighting, 12, Success x2, 2 damage} The man grunts and clutches at the fresh cut. His hand comes away bloody.

“My Lord!” Areon rushes to Errik’s side in an attempt to flank his attacker. Drawing The Sandstorm, he attempts to take the thug swiftly out of the fight. {Fighting: Long Blades, 28, Success x5, 25 damage}

Giselle halts her approach and calls, “Incoming support, my lord!” She waits a few moments for Errik to realize that means to slide to the side, or look over his shoulder and see her notched and drawn. She fires upon the fleeing thug, hoping to take him down before he makes good his escape. {Marksmanship: Bows, 10, Success, 4 damage} Despite the dark and the distance, her shot strikes true, catching the man high on his back and sending him rolling to the ground.

Giselle then immediately notches again and takes aim Errik’s attacker’s midsection – she wants him able to talk after all is said and done – and waits for an opening.

As Onri is hit square in his chest, his jaunty smile drops for an instant into the flash of anger. But only for an instant. Quickly tilting his chest, Onri allows the large thug’s fist to continue forward, and the momentum of the heedless punch carries the thug off-balance. {Distract: Cunning, 11, Success}

“How…ungentlemanly!” Onri shouts, punctuating his scorn with thrust to the thug’s midsection. {Fighting: Fencing, 21, Success x5, 17 damage} Completely unable to see the strike coming, the over-sized thug stumbles directly onto Onri’s blade, then collapses in a massive heap. Judging from the man’s glassy stare, he won’t be waking up any time soon, if at all.

The thin man curses loudly as his compatriots are cut down all around him, drops his club, sprints straight down the nearest dock, and takes a surprisingly graceful dive into the hushed waters of the Greenblood.

“Pity that he wasn’t the brains of the operations!” Onri says with a raised eyebrow. He looks over his dagger, and sees that it remains unbloodied. Quickly, he wipes it against his cloak as a precaution before sheathing it.

Calmly, he moves to the felled thug with the scarred face. Finding a relatively clean spot on his foe’s sleeve, Onri casually rubs the flat side of his sword against it to clean the blood off his blade. As he does, nonchalantly remarks, “I take it my lord was not badly hurt in this matter?”

Errik stares at the bodies for a moment and shakes his head. “No, I’m unharmed. I have you to thank for that. The Seven favor me with your timely arrival, ser.”

“And someone may want to pull that arrow out of the man’s back,” Onri remembers absentmindedly, “That won’t look good when the guards arrive.”

Giselle checks the thug she feathered and retrieves her arrow – it’s undamaged. The thug is in considerably worse shape, and in her estimation is unlikely to survive without some kind of medical care. She rises and returns to the group.

“I’ve got one down the docks who will survive and maybe fill in some gaps if we help him, my Lord,” she says to Errik. “I find it unlikely that this is a random mugging, considering their numbers and the rumours stirring about our good house. Perhaps we should…..?”

Swinging lantern lights become visible from the direction of the gates. It would seem the guards are on their way.

Onri examines his blade. Satisfied with its condition, he sheathes the weapon. Standing up, he faces Errik. He removes the wide-brimmed hat and says, “I believe my lord does not recognize me. It is understandable, given the time between our last meeting. I recognize little of the unsteady youth from years past in the Dornish warrior before me. I am Onri Doryc, son of Lord Aerin Doryc, traveler to far-flung lands, and your loyal bannerman.”

Hat at his chest, Onri gives Errik a short, polite bow. “I bring news from Skycrest, which should not be told in front of an audience of robbers and guards.”

Giselle returns as Onri’s introduction concludes.

“We should away, my Lord,” she says quickly. “The guards will surely, shall we say, dampen our visit should they choose to…and we have many things to discuss and plans to make.”

The iron shod footsteps of the guards come closer, and the faint sounds of clinking swords and muttered epithets drift down the breeze.

Areon has been quiet up to this point, pondering what has happened, but he wil speak up a last word, “The decision is yours my lord, but we have done nothing wrong here. These men attacked us and we defended ourselves. Running might give them the wrong impression, especially were they to recognize any of us upon our retreat.”

The guards are easily persuaded, especially once they make note of Errik’s and Onri’s rank, as to which side was in the wrong here, and quickly get to work. The captain briefly interviews all present about what happened, and one of his men scribbles notes furiously.

“Praise the Warrior this took place outside the walls, as well,” the captain notes quietly, “Or there might have been a more thorough inquiry – then we’d be up all night.”

The captain gives orders to his men to check the thugs, to take those into custody who yet lived and might be worth sending to the wall, and to clean up the dead. As they began to survey the scene, one of the guardsmen mutters to another.

“I should hate to cross swords with that lot. Wouldn’t surprise me if the stories were true, looking at this mess.”

“Keep your gabhole shut and your eyes on the job, or you’ll be cleaning up by your lonesome,” the captain snaps to no one in particular. Then, turning back to the Corinthyen party, he says, "I shan’t detain you, m’lords, although I pray you’ll be more cautious the rest of the evening.

{COMPLETE}

Comments

Errik frowns, tightening his grip on his spear. He looks over his shoulder against to see if the men are armed.

 

With sword and dagger drawn, a swarthy man in light traveler’s garb and leather armor steps out from the shadows behind the three men. A smirking grin is visible under his brimmed hat, and he approaches the thugs with even, deliberate steps.

“You gentlemen should reconsider. The odds are no longer in your favor.”

 

The stranger looks up, still smiling. “You’re right. I’m not concerned.” With that, the man springs into action.

//Roll initiative

 

//Initiative as follows:

  1. Errik
  2. Onri
  3. Street Thugs

//Giselle and Areon, stand by. You will arrive in three rounds, at the speed of plot.

 

Errik levels his spear at the man with the dagger, a shout of “Corinthyen!” on his lips as he charges him.

 

{Fighting: Spears: 14, Success x2, 6 damage} Errik’s fearless charge catches the thugs’ spokesman by surprise, and the man only narrowly escapes a lethal blow. However, his last-moment sidestep avails him little – the spear’s tip tears a gash in his side, eliciting a spray of blood and a howl of pain.

 

Seeing the young noble charge the man with the dagger, the stranger turns his attention to the man with the scarred face. With a quick lunge, he thrusts his sword at the robber’s chest, while his off-hand holds his dagger close to his body, ready to parry the counterattack.

 

//Heh, seems I failed to calculate your charging damage correctly, Errik. I should have added the bonus damage before doubling, not after. I’ve fixed it in the log, but I’m afraid you still didn’t drop the guy.

 

//Updated, including with thugs’ actions. It’s back to you, Errik.

 

With a growl, Errik pulls his dagger from his belt and thrusts it up towards the man’s gut.

//I’d like to use Lucky for this attack, to roll twice and take the better of the two rolls.

 

//Can do, but are you stabbing the Thug who just attacked you, or the leader who threw you down?

 

//Make that have done – just need to know who got stabbed to figure out the results. Onri can go ahead and act – no need to wait.

 

As Onri is knocked back from the punch, he makes a quick slash at the large man, attempting to slice his foe with the tip of his blade. He continues his movement, attempting to position himself next to Errik.

//Single attack against the thug who punched him and a lesser action to move adjacent to Errik.

 

//Partially updated. I need to know two things before I can finish the thugs turn:

  • Who did Errik stab?
  • Is Onri taking an Injury or a Wound?
 

//Errik stabs the man with the cudgel.

 

//That is to say he stabs the man who is holding the cudgel, not that he utilizes a cudgel to stab someone. Blunt objects make poor shanks.

 

//PM sent. Will take an injury.

 

//Updated. Thanks for that clarification, Michael. And the second one, too, although I’d have been mightily impressed by the cudgel-shank. Also, thanks for your PM Bohemond. The damage totals should be fixed and make sense now.

//New Initiative:

  • Errik
  • Areon
  • Giselle
  • Onri
  • Remaining Thugs
 

Errik picks up his spear and charges at the closest of the remaining thugs.

 

//I’m afraid that’s too many actions. Right now Errik is still on the ground holding his dagger. Standing up is a Lesser Action, as is picking up the Spear. Charging is a Greater one. Also, Errik is right next to a thug, the limper with the club.

 

//Ah. Stand up and slash the man with the limp, then.

 

//Done and done. Areon’s turn. He and Giselle are about 1 Lesser Action Move away at the beginning of this round. The leader of the thugs is running away from you down the docks – he’s almost out of sight in the darkness.

//Also, if your turn is coming up, feel free to post your planned action and a contingency or two ahead of time.

 

Two contingent actions:

1. Errik’s attacker is granted cover, either by Errik himself or another obstacle:

//If she has a clear line of sight on the fleeing attacker and the one engaged with Errik is covered by Errik himself or another obstacle, she will take the shot at the fleeing thug.

Giselle halts her approach and calls, “Incoming support, my lord!” waiting for Errik to realize that means to slide to the side, or look over his shoulder and see her notched and drawn. She fires upon the fleeing thug, hoping to take him down before he makes good his escape. She immediately notches and takes aim on Errik’s attacker, and upon that opening created by Errik, she fires on his foe, aiming at his midsection. She wants him able to talk after all is said and done.

2. The fleeing thug is out of effective range or granted cover (or for some other reason it will be a very low percentage shot).

//As described above, but disregard the hot at the fleeing attacker

 

*last line should read “shot” obviously.

 

//What’s that, Giselle is hot for Yellow Teeth? Aaaanyway, good shot. However, you can’t more more than one attack a round, so I’ll hold the second attack until your next turn, should you get one.

//You’re up, Areon. Everyone else, feel free to jump in and post, and I’ll add your actions ASAP.

 

//Fluff text aside, Onri will attack the large thug. Just going to point out that my attack on ol’ Ironfist McPunchalot is not for the kill, although after that 25 roll, a maim may be order…

As Onri is hit square in his chest, his jaunty smile drops for an instant into the flash of anger. But only for an instant. Quickly tilting his chest, allowing the large thug’s fist to continue forward. As the momentum of the heedless punch carries the thug forward.

“How…ungentlemanly!” Onri shouts, punctuating his scorn with thrust to the thug’s midsection.

 

//Bohemond, I’ve noted your preference for his Yield, so thanks for that. However, I was unclear on exactly which action(s) you are performing here. Is that Distract, then Attack, or is it just Attack and no second Lesser Action, or is it Reckless Attack? Or have I missed my guess completely?

 

//Um, nicely done, you reduced his Combat Defense to 0. Before we continue, I’d like to hear from gaaran – it may or may not affect my choices for the remaining thugs.

 

//I’ll have a comment shortly, need to look at combat rules. Sorry, I wasn’t getting any e-mail updates, so I forgot to come check.

 

//Also, can i get a description of where everyone is? If I’m right, there’s one bad guy down, one with an arrow in his back, and one fighting Errik?

 

//Assuming the above to be correct, here is what I would like to attempt to do.

I will draw my weapon (a free action) move up to the thug that is attacking Errik (a lesser action) and attempt to use the knockout action on him.

 

//Considering Giselle’s successful shot at the fleeing attacker and the seeming success of the others, I will change my contingent action for next round…if that’s okay…and run to apprehend the thug with the arrow in his back further down the dock to ensure his capture.

 

//Hmm, this might help answer a few questions. Here is the current status of the combatants:

Yellow-Toothed Leader – 10 damage, down with an arrow in his back, a ways down the boardwalk.
Scar w/ Club – 11 damage, down a few paces from Onri.
Limping Brute w/ club – 4 damage, currently standing and fighting Errik.
Unarmed Brawler – 18 damage, down nxt to Onri.
Whip-thin clubber – Fighting fit, and currently attacking Onri.

Errik – 3 damage, has dropped his spear, but is currently fighting the limping thug with his dagger.
Onri – 7 damage, 1 Injury, standing back to back with Errik and fighting the thin man.

 

//excellent, just what I wanted to see. I will change my action slightly. I intend to do basically the same except attack rather than knockout. Draw sword (and shield if I can) move to Limping Brute w/ club and attack. I will allow him to yield, rather than kill him.

“My Lord!” Areon will rush to Errik’s side in an attempt to flank his attacker. Drawing The Sandstorm, he attempts to take the thug swiftly out of the fight.

 

“My Lord!” Areon rushes to Errik’s side in an attempt to flank his attacker. Drawing The Sandstorm, he attempts to take the thug swiftly out of the fight. {Fighting: Long Blades, 28, Success x5, 25 damage}
____________________________________________________

The thin man curses loudly as his compatriots are cut down all around him, drops his club, sprints straight down the nearest dock, and takes a surprisingly graceful dive into the hushed waters of the Greenblood.

 

//Yes, unless someone wants to take another combat action of some kind. There are a bunch of bleeding men on the ground, and given the shouting and the clash of weapons, you all can guess that some guards will probably be along very shortly.

 

“Pity that he wasn’t the brains of the operations!” Onri says with a raised eyebrow. He looks over his dagger, and sees that it remains unbloodied. Quickly, he wipes it against his cloak as a precaution before sheathing it.

Calmly, he moves to the felled thug with the scarred face. Finding a relatively clean spot on his foe’s sleeve, Onri casually rubs the flat side of his sword against it to clean the blood off his blade. As he does, nonchalantly remarks, “I take it my lord was not badly hurt in this matter?”

 

“And someone may want to pull that arrow out of the man’s back,” Onri remembers absentmindedly, “That won’t look good when the guards arrive.”

 

Errik stares at the bodies for a moment and shakes his head. “No, I’m unharmed. I have you to thank for that. The Seven favor me with your timely arrival, ser.”

 

//Giselle will continue her action of pursuing the one she shot to secure him. She doesn’t really want him running off…and wants to know what this was all about.

 

//All of the thugs except for the one who jumped in the river are down and either dead or unconscious, including the one that Giselle shot.

Giselle checks the thug she feathered and retrieves her arrow – it’s undamaged. The thug is in considerably worse shape, and in her estimation is unlikely to survive without some kind of medical care.

 

Giselle returns to the group.

“I’ve got one down the docks who will survive and maybe fill in some gaps if we help him, my Lord,” she says to Errik. “I find it unlikely that this is a random mugging, considering their numbers and the rumours stirring about our good house. Perhaps we should…..?”

 

Onri examines his blade. Satisfied with its condition, he sheathes the weapon. Standing up, he faces Errik. He removes the wide-brimmed hat and says, “I believe my lord does not recognize me. It is understandable, given the time between our last meeting. I recognize little of the unsteady youth from years past in the Dornish warrior before me. I am Onri Doryc, son of Lord Aerin Doryc, traveler to far-flung lands, and your loyal bannerman.” Hat at his chest, Onri gives Errik a short, polite bow. “I bring news from Skycrest, which should not be told in front of an audience of robbers and guards.”

 

//Robbers and guards! Egadzooks! …also, I am finding this to be quite compelling to read.

 

Giselle returns as Onri’s introduction concludes.

“We should away, my Lord,” she says quickly. “The guards will surely, shall we say, dampen our visit should they choose to…and we have many things to discuss and plans to make.”

 

The iron shod footsteps of the guards come closer, and the faint sounds of clinking swords and muttered epithets drift down the breeze.

 

Areon has been quiet up to this point, pondering what has happened, but he wil speak up a last word, “The decision is yours my lord, but we have done nothing wrong here. These men attacked us and we defended ourselves. Running might give them the wrong impression, especially were they to recognize any of us upon our retreat.”

//I’m in california for a week, so I’ll be trying to keep up, but feel free to move without me when needed.

JonathonVolkmer JonathonVolkmer

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