The Yard

She smiled at the squire.

The stranger was very smug but Arenya decided to try and match it with her own. "It is here, but you have to defeat me to get it, along with the reward", she returned her own confidence filled smirk. "That is if you can, Ser?"

"I am a Princess of the Crown, if it's not obvious enough", she frowned at his arrogance to question her honor. "I don't have to swear anything, it is what the sign says so I am honorbound to give you the dragon.

"But if it will put you at ease... On my word, if you best me the dragon is yours."

"You're heading South", she looked at him puzzled. "Who are you?"

Arenya eyed him trying to place his face, then she chuckled,"I am not very good at dancing but I am very experienced in cutting a man open though."

"Oh my word, well then I beleive I shall not cut you too short to shyt then", she laughed. "My brother would be very disappointed if I killed someone that served a purpose to him"

Looking back at the sign, then smiling at him,"This but a training exercise for me, courtesy of our own Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

She nodded with a smile, ready herself in her stance. "Be kind to your, Princess now", she grinned at him from under her open helm. "But not too kind."

"I'm ready."

Visenya was quite bored in the largely empty castle and found herself wandering the halls and parapets and outbuildings. She would have begged an escort to the city but didn't feel the need to justify herself to the goldcloaks. Instead, she decided to go someplace she rarely had gone before; the trainibg yard. Perhaps someone exciting would be there to speak with, or perhaps she would take up a weapon as a hobby. She laughed to think of herself wielding a sword, and even harder to imagine herself with Elseyris' flail. Perhaps a crossbow; they seemed simple enough.

When she at last got to the yard, dressed in a less elegant than usual ensemble borrowed from her sisters closet (they were close enough in size, though the bodice strained a little over her fuller breasts and the leather breeches were rather tight on her bottom and thighs), she found there was a battle taking place. She quickly recognized Axell Blackwood and her cousins' aunt Arenya, that somewhat mannish one who never put on a gown. When Arenya bested Blackwood, she felt faintly embarassed for him, but she clapped politely just the same for her relative's victory.

Visenya nodded to Arenya politely, but she figured she would just do what she had come to do, and so she strolled over to where archery targets were set up some distance away. There were some bows as well, on a rolling rack not far away. She picked one up and struggled to draw it, grunting and pulling and not even getting the string much further than her elbow. She frowned and tried another. Well, that was an embarrassing mistake. Maybe she was just not meant for physical things. Maybe she should go back to embroidery or whatever it was her mother had suggested. And then she lit upon it; the crossbow. She lifted it, and it was heavy, but not too overwhelmingly cumbersome. She found the crank and fiddled with the machine until it found its slot. Turning the crank was not difficult either, to her delight, and setting the crank aside, she fired toward the target. She smiled. Now that was something she could do.

She felt his invisible contempt in his defeat as he departed. Arenya smiled to herself and took a seat watching Visenya waiting for her next opponent.

Hey body was feeling a little sore, it was crying for a bath, one that was hotter than usual, to soak away the pain, the dirt and slight chill that was in the air.

Despite the man's considerable efforts, Arenya recognises the voice of Lord Commander Brandon Snow.

The man turned his sword and saluted, and Arenya saw that the blade, razor sharp, glinted in the torch light.

"I do not think it worth dying over girl," he replied with a slight snarl, "But I mean to have that prize, so step aside."

The man advanced, slashing with the torch, before following with the sword, showing no sign that he was not out for blood.

OOC: Long Blade-Expert. Brandon will pull his punches, so if he is going to land a heavy blow, can I check it and lower it to only a light one? Please pause rolling if I land a hit.

OOC: Sorry forgot about average. Make the Heavy average hits. And yes, I mean first hit, regardless of impact.