Wincing from the bruises she’d gotten in the last set of jousting, Arisia sighed, taking care not to breathe too deeply and move her sore ribs. She was tired of aching, tired of the multitude of injuries, aches and pains that seemed to be par for the course since she started her time here at the Argent Tournament. She’d been proud to have been invited; training to be part of the force that would take out the Lich King was an honor.
Well, she’d felt that way until her first broken rib. This wasn’t gentle weapon theory craft; if you had been invited, you were deemed to be amongst the best, people that often carried the title of “hero” in smaller cities. You were handed a lance and told to go use it against those much better than you, knowing that it was experience that gave the best lessons. Having left her hawkstrider back in Silvermoon when she and her brother traveled to Northrend, her riding skills were rusty and fight after fight ended up with her on the cold packed earth of the jousting ring, knight sneering down at her discomfort.
You either broke, or became a tempered weapon, and in less than a week, her falls were cut in half, the face sneering down at the unhorsed rider more and more her own. As the days passed, she grew stronger, more sure of her skills. She’d shouldered all the different assignments; there were undead to slay in multitude using skills both old and new and it never seemed to end. In the end, this was really why she’d become a wandering adventurer… she’d wanted to do more, be more, and in the end, fighting Arthas’ army felt like the job she’d been training for all along.
She bowed to the Valiant she’d just unhorsed, and turned her riding beast down the path to turn in the last seal of the day. A scroll awaited her, and the assignment upon it chilled her– she wasn’t ready, not yet! Arisia tried going to the Troll who’d written out her orders, but he was impassive. She’d done her time under the others in that group, and even thought Trolls gave greater scrutiny to Blood Elves, none had a quibble with the work Rissa had been turning in.
She walked out of the tent, and looked at the mount still waiting for her to put him back in the general corral where all Valiants chose their training mounts. Patting its cool hide, she admired her mount. He was a raptor, the usual mount of a Troll, and one she’d never ridden until this training had begun. Dash, as she’d named him, having to chase the swift moving beast around the mount corral every morning, had become her favored mount. He was a soft lilac and blue color with glowing turquoise eyes. Strong and proud, he pranced as he walked, making the tiny bells on his harness chime softly in the icy breeze, tiny pale blue feathers fluttering as he walked. Her jousting seemed better as she rode him, the raptor moving with the slightest shifting of her weight and so he was the mount she chose for her final test, a one on one joust with a well trained Champion.
Biting her lip, she rode Dash up the hill to the testing arena. The raptor snorted and tossed his head, making his feathered headdress sparkle in the early morning light, but he settled down with a single pat. The hunter moved to the Herald waiting for her, and her opponent was called. She’d had a fight like this before, but the last time she’d been permitted help, and an experienced knight had come in to her rescue. This time it was all her, the skills she’d learned, and an impassive opponent on the other side of a lance.
The sparring began with a ringing blow, both moving into attack positions. Rissa felt her shields hold, and she swung her lance into every hole in the Champion’s defense. They rode hard around the ring, the fighting never letting up and both the Champion and Arisia were even in scoring until Arisia faltered and the Champion swung a heavy blow to her right side. Rissa swore, frantically trying to remake the shields that would shelter her from the blows raining down on her, unable to take the time to control her mount. The hawkstrider she’d ridden the last time had bolted when something similar had happened during her first Champion joust, but the assist from the other knight had given her time to get that mount back in control. This time, Dash was given his head.
But rather than run, the raptor dipped his head and HISSED angrily, shifting in a dance that moved him out of the Champion’s reach, giving his rider time to not just reset her shields but settle her pole and swing a blow at the Champion. Rissa grinned ferally and bent low, guiding Dash with her knees, and turned the fight back on the Champion until the knight raised his hand in defeat. Rissa pumped her arm in triumph and cheered, Dash roaring along with his rider.
The knight grinned at her, removing his helm to reveal one of the masters of the stable. “You know, you’ve earned enough marks from your training to keep him—it’s not often one of these mounts bonds with their rider.”
Nodding, Arisia patted the soft hide of the raptor’s neck. “He’s a treasure indeed; I’ll be by later to transfer the credits.” Bowing her head, she turned her mount back down the dirt path. “Right now, we’ve training to do, Sir Champion; the storm is coming, and the wise prepare.”
Nodding back at her, the knight trotted up another path. Rissa took a deep breath, ignoring the pain, and sighed, this time in worry for a battle more serious than a chase around a training ring. “Let’s go, Dash—time to get back to work.” The raptor snorted, stepping into a fast trot, the soft chiming of his bells gentle music soon covered by yet another rising wind.
