Just the thought gets your blood pumping. You know you'll do well in combat today.
You finish buttoning your vest and look at yourself in the mirror you've made out of the polished shoulder plate from an old suit of armor. You nod at yourself. You're ready.
You shove open the door, and there's Fizza, about to knock.
"You're late." You laugh. "Let's do this."
Fizza glares and falls in next to you as the two of you make your way to the corral. "You think we're ready?" she says in an uncharacteristically uncertain voice.
"Of course. We'll win today."
"Right," she says. "Of course. Nobody can beat me in archery, and nobody can beat Sir Kelton in the joust."
The two of you reach Roja and begin harnessing her to the supply cart, which you prepared the previous night. Not long into the process, Sir Kelton appears.
"Got everything we need? It would be a shame if we reached the tournament grounds and realized we forgot something."
"Everything is here, sir," you say.
"You sure? What about your armor?"
"I don't have any armor of course, Sir Kelton," you reply. "I'll have to use a public suit if I qualify for the joust."
"Those rusty old things do more harm than good. I think if you go into the practice shed, you'll find my old suit ready to go. I used it when I was much younger; it should be a good fit for you, Kirk."
You look across the cart to see Fizza trying to hide her scowl.