[color=ff9900][center][h2]Geldyr Snow[/h2][/center][/color] 

Geldyr let out a breath, a light glistening of sweat upon his brow as he halted for a moment. "[b]You have a good sword arm[/b]," he heard from behind him. The Bastard son of Lord Karlear turned to see a handsome man perhaps 10 years his elder, standing there, tall and strong. He had a northern accent Geldyr guessed, sounding much like his own. "[color=ff9900]And you've a good eye.[/color]" he said, jokingly. He held his hand out to the man. "[color=ff9900]Geldyr Snow. My father is Lord Karlear.[/color]" he said. In all honesty, most of the North had heard of Geldyr, but it wouldn't do well to act haughty or arrogant. He knew one wrong foot or one blade swifter than his could end his life easily. Plus, of course, he was no true heir to any position. 

He glanced past the man and gazed up towards the King's table. He saw it was filling up now, with Lords and Ladies from across the land. If he didn't know better, he might have spotted a Lear family member or two. He'd enjoy seeing them before the tournament was over. It had been too long before he'd done so. 
[@Ambra]