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Lithor
Dozens of eager participants swarmed around Lithor shouting which games they wished to be in. Lithor laughed at the commotion and his own confusion as he jotted down everyone’s names on a scroll. He breathed a sigh of relief when the last name was written down, and he rolled the paper back into a scroll, but almost he immediately unfolded it, he had forgot all about Rowenna’s requests. Lithor hesitated a moment to put her name down, it wasn’t a women’s place to compete side by side with grown men, besides he didn’t much like the cocky attitude that she had. However, his quill soon scribbled down her name, but a scowl was on the guard’s face.
Lithor went to find lord Eodwine, the races would be the first games of the day and it wouldn’t be proper to start them without a word from eorl. He was puzzled to find Eodwine talking to Rowenna about Flithaf, the eorl’s horse. He waited quietly behind Eodwine shifting his weight on his feet, and finding himself edging closer and closer to find out Eodwine’s answer. Rowenna acted very excited when he consented and Lithor was both shocked and amused that Eodwine gave in to her demands.
“Young lass has got the Eorl wrapped around her finger today, he?" he cried, perhaps a little too loudly, with a broad grin on his face.
He was met with a scowl from Eodwine, but the grin did not erace itself.
“I’m sorry my lord,” Lithor said apologetically, but still grinning, “but you know what they say: laughter is the corrective force which prevents us from becoming cranks.” he chuckled again at his small joke, not realizing how formal he was being with a superior.
“Everyone, attention please, may I have your attention!” he cried aloud with raised hands, “the morning is spent and the festivities are about to begin, but first our lord has a few words to say.” And with that Lithor stepped aside and let Eodwine speak.
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