[D5, Joust R4] Ser Meddrick Manderly v Ser Byron Swann

[Reader]

Both Ser Meddrick and Ser Byron did not seem as well as they should be as they rode onto the tourney grounds. For the merman, that was not unexpected, the talk seemed to be all about whether or not Ser Meddrick was a fool to defy the maesters orders or a shining specimen of Northron resilience. There is sweat on his face, and he has to unceremoniously stop halfway towards the high seat to vomit. "
Better to do so now than having it hang in a line after him as he races down the track."
a shout can be heard from the stands. Though he makes his way nonetheless.

Ser Byron, by many considered the favorite in this match on account of Ser Meddrick's condition, rides without pause towards Lord Tully to salute, he tries to wave to the crowd but achieves only murmurs when it seems that almost make him fall of his horse. To the experienced eye, it seems as it is the breeding of the horse that keeps the man from making an utter fool of himself. Suspicious eyes look towards Ser Fredryk, noting the tourney master gripping his mustache so tightly that it may require a salvaging operation, the man is clearly worried, and frustrated, too. It does not take a stretch to imagine that something is not quite right, and the experienced knight tried to talk Ser Byron into forfeiting.

But neither jouster seems to have listened to reason, a maester stands next to Ser Meddrick's squire, looking every bit as concerned as Ser Fredryk. The horn sounds, and both knights spur their steeds into motion, Ser Byron noticeably slow in his reaction. Whatever Ser Meddrick might have eaten, it does not show as his lance strikes cleanly, sending his opponent slumping to the ground. Ser Byron on the other hand, appears to miss Ser Meddrick entirely, some in the crowd even claiming that his hand lost grip of the lance before the impact.

Ser Meddrick removes his helmet and looks across the scene, clearly uncomfortable, and then his face becomes alike that of a babe about to soil his swaddling clothes, electing to quickly ride for the camps, maester lifting up his robe to run after the man to quite a few humorous responses in the stands. Meanwhile, the maester of Riverrun calls for the gurney to carry Ser Byron off the field. Sound asleep is the verdict...and probably best to let him have his rest.

[OOC: many thanks to one of our players for setting these events in motion and for his text]