On the journey to the cairn itself I felt more than my fair share of hesitation and objections and even before that during the incident in Tyrol I will admit I felt conflicted for reasons that upon recollection I now realize naïve and somewhat selfish. While I still hold my word and honor close to my heart the mission given to us must come first and to complete this task we cannot lose even one of our number without a heavy toll paid by our foe.
The things found in the tomb only further that notion that my views are skewed. The man behind the creation of it killed those involved, and within the first room of the sealed tomb we found a pack of ghouls. Traveling further into the cairn there were foul spirits tricking us into attacking one another, with shame I must confess I was the first to be fooled. The revelation that the king himself had become a foul shade in command of the ghouls erased what little trepidation about re-purposing the wealth and equipment we found within. I still pray we were justified given what we fight for.
Two days have passed since the last entry; our group having returned to Tyrol in the late afternoon two nights ago. We used the day before this one to sort out our issues with identification and solve any financial problems that might arise in the near future.
I write this on the morning of the Tourney in honor of the Duchess’s birthday, the company (We have termed our group The Donovan Company. I quite like it.) having been generous to allow me a day to participate in the joust. Sadly, I’ve been confined to the lowest bracket due to my lacking any sort of recognition or name, but this shall not deter or dishearten me and I shall treat my opponents with the respect due to them, overconfidence has been the bane of too many a knight. My caparison and tabard have been thoroughly cleaned and I am eager to joust once more, it has been too long since I’ve had the honor of facing a worthy opponent in a charge with nothing but the wind through my visor and the thunder of horse hooves. The viscous cracking as lances connect, the power of two warhorses concentrated into a pair of points driving into offending metal. I must busy myself before I lose my focus, perhaps go over my equipment and look over Donovan once more? I won’t allow myself to fight in Tyrol without ensuring Donovan and I look our best. I’m sure the opponents will be impressive individuals fit for a duel in the name of the duchess in Tyre’s capital, even if this will be the lowest bracket.
My Jousts have been concluded and they were as glorious as any I’ve had before, or at least the two of my opponents who put forth a good effort.
The first fight was most certainly my favorite, my opponent being a rather portly veteran who knew what he was doing and had a warhorse to match. If not for the man having let himself go I might’ve even lost. He must’ve been a terror in his prime.
Lastly was a robust half-elf with a burly warhorse, and while she did seem angry for some reason or another (I suspect Barnaby) I was at my peak during that match. Her lance didn’t touch me and my blow launched her clear to her end of the arena, her lance shattered by my own. She at least had some dignity in her defeat, but any good will was lost when I had heard the sound of the clay of a false point shatter mid-charge. I suppose I still harbor no small measure of hatred from my brother lancing through my shoulder during my first joust, the cur.
I think this shall be all for today, I am still coming down from the high after my final victory and remembering Bertram’s offense has ruined my mood. I need to prepare for the after-event, and then we leave for the north in the morning.