Prince Aidan slunk into his throne and ordered one of his servants to fetch some wine, knowing that he was in for a long afternoon. He had attended tournaments before, enjoying some of the combat displays quite a bit. When he was younger, he used to wish that he could be like the mighty jousters or melee champions, powerful enough to topple a man off his horse or off his feet with a single blow. 

But he felt no sense of nostalgia during this tourney. As he had worried, many of the knights were green. Some were good, but not as good as what the Prince was used to. The very first duel started off with one of the knights tripping and falling ontop of the other. A bad omen already. The ones that followed were better at least, but still nothing to admire.

[i]"I can't trust my life with a knight who's only decent."[/i] Aidan thought as he watched over the tourney. Perhaps he would just have to convince his father that going with one of the royal guard would be a safer plan.

The crier announced the next duel as being between Sir Lyn of the Western Isles and Sir Tyrragon of Clarendell. The Prince recognized neither names, which he deemed unsurprising considering the state of the young rabble. What was surprising, however, was the performance of Sir Lyn.

The Western Isle Knight defeated his opponent in short order using a swift shoulder-strike following an equally quick dodge. It was enough to make Aidan pull himself up from his throne, his interest peaked by the Sir Lyn's thorough display of skill. As the Western Isle Knight secured their victory, the Prince offered a small smile. As Sir Lyn lifted his visor, Aidan noted that he looked perhaps younger than most of the other knights. Very interesting.

As the tourney progressed, Aidan paid little attention until it was Sir Lyn's turn again to duel. He adjusted his posture up while seated on his throne, taking a sip of wine as the trumpets bellowed once more.