Wake up

The next morning after breakfast you try on your new violet dress (quite pretty, though incredibly homely in your time) which Alric compliments. Getting on his steed once more you head for the tournament.

?Where?s your joust?? you ask.

?We need not provide our own,? he says. ?All jousts are blunted on the end to help prevent any serious injury to the loser, and they like to regulate such matters. Likewise, thou shalt be provided with a standard bow that all competitors will use.?

Upon reaching the tournament, you learn that the jousting tournament is first with archery and other games (including chess!) to follow. After showing you where you?ll need to go when your portion of the tournament starts, he points you to the bleachers and wishes you good fortune in your event.

The jousting is incredible to watch! Much more enthralling than the show put on by the renaissance festival each year. The crowd really gets into things as apparent by how badly your ears hurt from all the shouting (and frankly, from all the money exchanging hands after bets have been won and lost). After eleven battles, the tournament director hushes the crowd.

?And for our last joust of the day, we have two fierce battlers. On the south end on the black horse is Beowulf Goodwin! On the north end on the brown horse is Sir Alric Dyer!? You hear a trumpet rooting on the competitors. The director backs out of the ring then gives the signal to start.

Standing up out of your seat, you inwardly cheer for Alric as his horse gallops to the center. As he approaches, he pulls his joust down confidently, aimed at Beowulf?s chest. As they draw near, you can?t help but close your eyes.

CLANG! The crowd gasps, even more than normal. Opening your eyes, you are dismayed to see Alric on the ground. But after some initial cheering, the crowd?s silence grows deafening as they realize Alric isn?t moving! Officials walk out and hover over him, and you see one motion towards the crowd. What looks like a doctor strolls up to his body. Your heart races as you can do nothing but watch and pray. Soon, he is carried off the field. You struggle through the crowd, hoping to reach your friend, but he is whisked away before you can get there. Your pleas for answers are met with stone silence, but growing gossip around the crowd is that Sir Dyer has been killed! Some say that Beowulf was using an illegal spear, while others speculate that he just hit him in the wrong place. Either way, it is doubtful you will find out soon, if at all. He?s the only person here you can trust.

Lost, alone, and scared again, you quickly contemplate your options. You quickly surmise that none of them are promising. But you have to do something.