Appropriately for such a lavish spectacle, there was a grand tournament, and the talented Lord Richard Ironforger had fashioned not one, but two prizes for the victor and the runner-up. The second prize was a pair of Ironforger’s coveted Prize Basket Hilts. They were much sought after by fighters in the region because this special elegant design was never for sale; Richard only offered them to tourney winners. But the first place prize was even grander. Richard had made a beautiful great helm, with carved brasswork, a riveted mail aventail, and a glossy parkerized finish. And Lord Avatar, flush from his recent victory as Baronial Champion, was determined to win it.

Avatar did well in the tourney, besting all six of his opponents in a variety of weapons forms until he reached the finals undefeated. There he met Nous, a hoardsman reknowned for his skill at florentine. The marshals declared a best of three finals with matched weapons forms. Nouse chose florentine first and handily beat Avatar, who returned the favor by taking Nous with Sword and Shield just as quickly. For the final match each opponent chose their favorite style.

The bout was furious. Nous had never before been in the finals of a major tournament and was determined to win one for the Dark Hoard; Avatar wasn’t going to give up that helmet without a fight. For nearly twenty long minutes the warriors exchanged blows until Avatar sheared one of Nous’ swords off at the hilt. Although Nous was still armed, Avatar called for a new sword to be brought to his opponent, to the delight of the gallery. Nous thanked Avatar for his generosity.

The fight continued with Nous raining down rapid blows against Avatar’s tight defence until his wooden shield was reduced to splinters on his arm. The marshals called hold and removed the fragments from the field. They informed Avatar that he would have to continue single sword. Then, to the astonishment of all, Nous dropped his primary sword and saluted Avatar. Knowing the Dark Hoarde’s feelings on Points of Honor, Avatar was much impressed. The tired fighters saluted and went at it again.

There followed a series of double kills. When Nous would trust, Avatar would wrap. When Avatar would snap a quick cross-face, Nouse would take Avatar’s remaining good arm. Because of the exhaustion the fighters were feeling by now, the marshals allowed them to continue single sword, as neither was up to starting the fight again.

Finally, Nouse parried a blow and ducked under to hit Avatar in the ribs. Avatar was too tired to even react; he just slowly slumped over onto Nous and a second later Nous just as slowly slumped over onto Avatar. The two men stayed that way for several minutes gasping for air as the gallery applauded Avatar’s dramatic stand and the Hoardsmen whooped and howled at their champion’s victory. The marshals left both men alone on the field until they crawled over to a tree to lay prostrate in the shade.

Everyone was pleased, except perhaps Baron Lorimer, who did not relish the idea of a scruffy Hoardsman sitting at his High Table. Still, the tradition was a that the victor and their consort sat High Table and to not invite Nous would be a blatant discourtesy. So he sent a herald over to the tree to make arrangements for Nous and his lady. Nous sent back word that he had no lady with him. Lorimer sent word back that it was not proper for the victor to sit alone and Nous would have to pass on the honor this time. Nous and Avatar exchanged looks. Then both men struggled to their feet, linked arms, and Nous told the herald to inform His Excellency that Avatar would be his consort at High Table.

The herald blanched but went off to perform his duty while Nous and Avatar watched. When Baron Lorimer got the news, he shot them both a displeased look from across the field. Nous bowed. Avatar curtsied.

And they both had a wonderful time that evening admiring each other’s prizes, trying to get HRM Dafydd to give parts of Atenveldt to the Dark Hoard, and throwing bread balls from High Table to an amused populace.