With a blare of a trumpet, and the booming of drums, both contenders saddled atop their trusty steed slowly made their way down the ramp and into the right to the thunderous, almost deafening cheers and applause of the crowd encircling the arena.
Man, talk about stage fright. No doubt if that were me pulling on the reins and holding up that gargantuan spiny lance in hand, I'd probably just end skewering both myself and my horse just from the peer pressure alone.
Not Ash though. I knew behind that unsteady wobble of the helm lies an expression as hard as stone, unbreakable, unswayable.
"So… Elf-Knight, eh?" spoke a hooded hunter across from me far right. "What are you guys thinking?"
"As usual, it's only eight passes around the field," said a witch, her staff on her lap sitting just right beside him. "If she's lucky, she'll get to ten points by the end of it."
