Melee Madness part-1

Outside, Jason sighed as he'd pace around in the shady. Already he could hear the overall camp become lively as everyone was awake. No doubt the crowds would arrive soon and settle in around the Melee field for the battle. As he glanced around, he'd notice the towering shape of Gregor stepping out of Pycelle's tent. Quickly, he slipped into the deeper shade of the King's tent to avoid the giant's gaze as the man looked about with a tensed expression on his face. Gregor winced as he had one hand grasp at the side of his head, seeming to be in pain. Lifting up a large bottle full of a milky white fluid, he'd take a deep drink from it, giving out a deep sigh as it seemingly ease whatever pain he had been feeling. He'd soon move on, stomping off for his tent to equip himself for the battle ahead.

"Hmm…gigantism does have its draw backs…" Jason muttered as he'd step out of hiding, just as Eddard left the royal tent. The man gave a small nod for the Surgebinder to follow, already leading the way back to Jason's tent.

"Bold move doing that, but a smart one." Eddard remarked after a moment of silent walking.

"Robert is a man of action, so I simply spoke his language."

"Heh, a cunning move considering. Bet I'd have spent an hour just arguing with him."

"I think your idea having him watch up close helped a lot. He didn't complain after that."

"Aye…he didn't."

By now the two reached Jason's tent, yet as they neared it the Surgebinder stopped as he could hear someone moving around inside. He'd make a small gesture for Ned to be quiet before he'd slip through the tent flap, one hand reaching slightly for his swords if needed. He'd quickly realize that his intruder was simply Davos who was checking around the quite bare tent.

"Snooping around captain?"

The sailor gave a small gasp and turned about, giving a sigh when he saw it was Jason. "Seven Jason…anyone tell you not to surprise people like that." He'd muttered.

The Surgebinder just smirked and shrugged as he'd step fully into the tent, Eddard following in. Seeing Lord Stark, Davos gave a short respectful bow before offering a hand out. "Ah Lord Stark! It's an honor to at last meet you."

Eddard gave a small smile as the two shook hands. "I take you're Davos Seaworth. Jason has told me a bit about you, how you're trader and lord serve under Lord Stannis. How has he been of late?"

"Very busy considering his work on the new fleet. Been spending months sailing between every port across Westeros and Essos just to get the supplies needed." Yet before he could say more there be a sudden trumpeting, the signal for everyone to gather at the Melee field. "Ah but we can chat on the matter later."

"Of course." Ned looked to Jason. "You sure you're ready for this?"

The Surgebinder smirked, noting Eddard's troubled look. "I was made to fight Ned. If anything I'm eager to cut loose for once."

"Just don't overdo it. A lot of those knights are honest men…even if they will be fighting just as fiercely." Turning to leave, he'd stop just before leaving the tent to glance back. "Give Gregor hell though. Time he pay for his vile actions…and give a few people some peace of mind." With that he'd leave the tent, Davos following close behind, giving a small grin of confidence to the Surgebinder before he left.

Now alone, Jason took a moment to take a deep breath, closing his eyes as he composed himself. It had been a long while since he had been in a real battle, much less mass combat. While he could use his sword skills more fully, he knew he'd have to pull some strikes else he'd easily cripple some of the knights even with their heavier armor. Once more the trumpet sounded, making the Surgebinder open his eyes as he was now ready, as he'd gather the horse armor, knowing his mount needed much protection as possible. As he shifted through the chest, he'd notice something tucked away behind it, a wooden pole and a greyed piece of cloth. Reaching around to grasp the cloth, he'd pick it up and fold it to reveal it was a banner, demonic eyes in the shadow of one wing.

"Heh…not bad." He think back to Tyrion's question about the Surgebinder needing a banner, being quite insistent on the matter. While he had been reluctant, seeing the finished banner did bring a welcoming feeling, a reminder of returning home. He wondered for a moment what Eskal and Lambert would think about the banner, no doubt joke to high hell about every detail about it. Grabbing banner, he'd get it set on the pole before heading outside with it along with the mount's armor as well.

Striding out of his tent, he'd go to the nearby horse trough where he had the horse tied by. Working on getting the armor strapped across the mare's sides, flank and head he'd mutter to her. "Not feeling nervous? Been a while since I've been in a fight together with a mount."

The mare seemed to huff in some understand, head shaking a bit in what he guessed was a no.

Soon the Melee Field was in sight where already half of the knights were gathered up, all mounted and holding high their personal or House banners. Jason had Roach pace about looking for a good spot, until noticed Loras among the lineup. Moving up to be at his right, he'd give a small nod to the young and lavishly armored knight. "Doing alright today Ser Loras?"

"Just a sore pride after yesterday's jousting tumble." He'd chuckle back. "I'll admit the Melee isn't my favored event, yet I feel I need to strive harder today…show everyone the Tyrells are capable on the field."

"Confidence like that can overcome much. I'm certain you'll do well."

Loras nodded before the trumpet was blown a third time, signaling that the event was to begin. Quickly glancing along the line he'd recognized Gregor, Sandor and Jaime among the other knights. He'd notice a few men from yesterday were missing…discounting Hugh who was very much deceased. By his count, there was only forty now with himself included.

Everyone waited tensely for a moment until from around the stand, Robert and Tyrion rode out with Eddard and Barristan following close behind them. The King and dwarf paced along the line up of knights and warrior, Robert seeming to closely examine them up close with a stern judging gaze. Soon the group stopped at front center of the grouped warriors.

"All of you are some of the greatest warriors and knights Westeros has to offer. Men with unmatched skill, strength and spirit. Many of you shown off such qualities yesterday at the joust and archery match…yet here the Melee will truly test you!" Robert's voice had such a commanding strength to it, almost as if he was readying them for war. "However, I think a few of you have become soft…" The sudden criticism had a few of the men glanced around, confused at their King's words. "Many of you depend on the advantage of having a mount, giving you the speed and defense to best nearly any foe. Sometimes though you won't have that luxury and will have to rely on nothing more than your own two feet."

As if to make the point, he'd shift about on his saddle and drop off the side. Ned gave quite shocked look as his friend landed firmly on his feet, a low wince just escaping the unfit King, although he did well to hide the discomfort. At the least it showed he had sobered up enough to recover some sense of balance.

"Ser Loras reminded me of this. If a knight becomes helpless once dismounted then he may as well be a helpless babe!" Loras shifted in his seat, glancing away in embarrassment as a few chuckles escaped from the crowd. "So that's why this Melee we're changing the usual rules. No horses…no lances…just mace, sword and shield!"

Already a few of the knights muttered, a few seeming unsure of this sudden changes. Jason saw this as a surprising blessing since now he wouldn't have to deal with dangerous lances most of the men had planned to use. Already he noticed Thoros grinning, seeming pleased at this new turn of events. While he had won a few matches in the joust, Jason knew the Red Priest preferred more up close and personal duels then those behind a lance.

"After some insistence from his Grace, the original rules I had planned have been…considerable altered." From how it sounded, Tyrion seemed annoyed that his plans had been changed since he had no doubt spent a long time creating them.

"While we have fewer men competing we will still start the Melee with two teams. Lucky we have an even amount…unless anyone has any second thoughts?" No one spoke or moved to leave, no doubt not wanting to look cowardly. "Good…that makes my job easier. Overall the rules are simple. No horses will be used in this battle. You are free to use any weapons of your choice…except for you Ser Gregor.

The giant knight gave a confused grunt from under his helmet, before an annoyed growl. "Why is that dwarf?" He demanded.

"This dwarf is still the master of the games. Speaking out of line doesn't help your cause Ser Gregor…so disobey and I'll have you marched off the field, in chains if needed!" Tyrion spoked sternly, surprising many at his sharp warning to the Mountain. "Your history of death at tournaments is well known, as we saw yesterday. If anything I'd rather have you far off at your Keep then remaining here. However your King has decided to give you one chance. You will fight with a blunted sword, little more than a practice blade. You'll need not worry for it is the size and weight is what you prefer using in battle. At the least you won't be easily lopping off limbs, yet if you do go out of your way to kill or cripple anyone then we'll see that you face the King's Justice…is that clear?"

Again the Mountain growled, hand gripping the reins of his horse tightly, tugging them back that his new warhorse whined in discomfort. "Clear…my lord." He muttered through clenched teeth.

"Wonderful. Glad we've came to an understanding." At this point Jason felt Tyrion was testing how far he could toy with the Mountain, making him wonder if the dwarf was that fearless or just confident his rank protected him. "The usual rules of the Melee apply. When first blood is drawn from cut or blow you or you are disarmed, you are to yield to your opponent and leave the field. We will have spotters to ensure no cheating or foul play is done, though I believe all of you will avoid such unfairness. When half the contestants have been bested, a horn will sound which will signal the free for all between all survivors. Any teamwork will be of convenience or alliance. You will be allowed to trade more blows during this half of the battle with being disarmed still considered a defeat." He'd pause for a moment to let all the details sink in. "If there are no questions then choose a side of the field and leave your horses behind. We have extra weapons set in your respective camps if you require any. Besides that I wish all of you the Sevens fortunes and an honorable battle."

With that, Tyrion gave a short bow from his horse while the gathered knights quickly broke away from the line. Gregor was quick to go to the northern end of the field and amusingly many others quickly followed after him. No doubt they felt safer having him on their side, at least until the latter half of the Melee if they survived. Jaime and Thoros headed off to the northern end as well while Jason, Sandor and Loras moved to the south end.

Jason glanced at the Hound, a scarred man keeping his gaze set before him with a serious look in his eyes. He didn't say anything to Sandor, not wanting to annoy or distract him before the battle. Once everyone had arrived at the camp, they'd dismount and tie their horses up at the temporary stables that had been set up for them. A few of the knights moved to the nearby weapon racks, checking over a selection of weapons ranking from spears, maces and swords of all sizes. Loras was among the group as he'd eye a few weapons, picking out a heavy mace for himself which he hefted up quite easily. Despite the pretty face and slim build he was stronger than he looked.

The Surgebinder didn't need any others weapons, feeling his two sword along with the Dragon Fang would be more than enough for the Melee. Standing at the edge of the camp, he'd calmly wait as the rest of his team prepared themselves. His eyes closed as he'd calm his mind, entering a light meditation to ready himself.

"Praying now? Didn't think you the type." Sandor gruffly spoke, snapping Jason to attention.

"Was meditating." He'd bluntly answer back.

"If you say so." From the Hound's tone he seemed to care considering. "Let's get one thing straight here. Gregor is mine to kill…not yours you hear?"

"Who said anything about killing?"

"Heh! That is rich coming from you." Sandor laughed. "I saw the look in your eyes when you faced against him. You'd have cut him down at that moment if you have the chance. The eyes of a killer."

Jason was silent, making the Hound give a grim chuckle

"Being quiet about it? Trying to deny what you are."

"No…but I don't boast about it like others."

Sandor's gaze narrowed. "Whatever. Point is keep away from Gregor. Only chance I may to get to get back at the bastard."

By now the rest of the knights were gathering up, forming a line for the coming march onto the field. Off in the distance the other team did the same and even from here Jason could see the giant Clegane in the distance. Made sense why they called him the Mountain.

"Then best of luck." Jason simply answered back to Sandor just before the signal horn was blown. "Try not to lose too quickly." Drawing his steel blade, he'd already step forward as everyone began to walk onto the field, going at a slow pace for the moment.

Sandor was quick to follow, catching up to the front of the group where Jason was. Slowly the distance between the two teams shortened and in turn their pace picked up. Soon everyone was at a quick march as both groups neared. By now Jason was able pick out the other notable fighters on the other team, Jaime who was following close behind the Mountain, armed with a fine sword and an ornate reinforced heater shield with the front stylized with a roaring lion's head. Thoros was also among the leading warriors, a wide eager grin on his face as he quickly noticed Jason.

"Surgebinder! I knew you'd be at the lead!" He yelled out loudly. "Yes…no fear or hesitation!" Glancing about at the knights, he'd rise his sword up. "Watch and learn men! This is how you start a proper battle!" Suddenly he'd burst into a charge, giving a fierce and quite intimidating battle cry. Some of the younger knights on the Surgebinder's side flinched, while the men of the priest's side seemed rallied. The Mountain gave his own roar as he and the others joined the charge.

Jason's glance at the other knights, sensing the nervous tension they had. "No backing out. Face them head on!" He yelled out before facing the enemy. With a growl he'd rush forward, showing his inhuman speed for that short sprint ahead.

Loras nodded in agreement. "Jason is right! Show no fear! We are the knights of Westeros and we back down to no one, not even our own!" He'd close his visor down before he'd charge as well, trying to catch up with the Surgebinder.

"Don't need you to tell me that damn flower boy!" Sandor cursed out as he too rushed forward and in turn the rest of the men did the same.

For a long moment the air was filled with the stomp of armored feet and fierce yells. In the end both groups met, with the leading warriors clashing first. Jaime and Loras striked at each other, shields up to ward off the opening attack. Sandor and Gregor roared out as their massive swords clashed, sparks flying for a short moment as the weapons roughly dragged against each other in the blade lock. Jason and Thoros slashed at the same time, counter acting each other's attack with a resounding clang.

Soon everyone else locked in combat as the battle truly began. Men traded blows, often guarding them with shield or their weapons. No one was wounded at first, showing how well trained even the newest knights were. Everyone had chosen an opponent, leading to fierce duels all across the field.