OPEN.

[broodypants]

WHO: Fenris, Jone, & YOU.
WHAT: Fenris & Jone are back in Kirkwall.
WHEN: When... people... are back in Kirkwall... waves hand.
WHERE: KIRKWALL
NOTES: None yet.

Comments

[poleaxed]

Jone grins, having finally snared someone's interest. She smacks the shield, and the device rotates, the sandbag tied to the other end swinging the contraption back into position.

"Quintain!" Jone says, all cheer. "Practice your horsemanship."

[notathreat]

The smack is loud, but none of the horses startle; they're all seasoned mounts. It clicks for Ellie a moment later, and she steps closer, giving the shield a smack herself to test the weight of it. It's heavier than it looks.

"What, like jousting?"

[poleaxed]

Jone nods, happy to be understood. The girl's accent reads as Rifter, but she can't be sure quite yet.

"Used to be how to practice for it, but it became its own sport in time. You want to try?"

[notathreat]

Ellie peers at it a moment more, then gives a shrug, her eyes sharp, sparkling with curiosity. It comes out now and again, the prospect of a challenge.

"Sure, why not?"

Worst she could do it make an ass of herself in front of the horses.

"Riding this guy?" she asks, gesturing to the palfrey, approaching from the front to reach up and give his cheek a familiar scratch.

[poleaxed]

Jone pats the horse's hind. "Maric. Rebel king of Ferelden. Proper gallant, he is; treat you kindly."

Jone begins helping Ellie saddle up, outfitting her with the jousting lance.

[notathreat]

"He yours?" Ellie asks, moving to help with the tack, reaching up to give the old man a good scratch on the cheek, finding the itchy places. She pats his withers, mounts up, and takes the lance.

"... oh, shit. This is heavier than it looks."

She can still lift it, but damn. She takes a moment to wrap her fingers around it in her good hand, get it properly balanced. This is going to be difficult.