[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjgwLjMxYjBmYy5SV1IzYVc0Z1NIbHNZVzVrLjE,/pfeffer-mediaeval.regular.png[/img] [img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/27f866590b520885a1c1b1749dd8f62c/tumblr_mop82dfboU1qc4ffvo1_250.gif[/img] [b][u]Interacting With;[/u][/b] | [b]Lord Dunkirk[/b] (NPC) | [b][u]Location;[/u][/b] The Tournament Grounds[/center][hr][hr] As Trystan was thrown from his horse, Edwin wasted no time in making his way through the crowds of people to find the weasel that was Lord Dunkirk. He found the man behind a tent, with a servant girl who seemed none too happy to be there. [color=deepskyblue][b]"Go,"[/b][/color] he said to the girl, and she fled the scene, holding back tears. She was a strong one. Edwin turned to face the now fuming Lord Dunkirk, and punched him square in the face. [color=deepskyblue][b]"What in the hell? If you think I owe you any favors after that catastrophe, you're sorely mistaken!"[/b][/color] Edwin shouted, his anger bubbling inside of him. Lord Dunkirk looked at him, a look of pure hatred etched across his visage. [b]"I promised you a better chance, not a win. And you will deliver on your promise, not now, but soon. It's not my fault your brother isn't very skilled,"[/b] the man said. Edwin clenched his fists as Dunkirk strutted away, and then rested his head in his hands. This was not how he'd expected this all to go.