HERCULE ACHILLE DU BOIS GUILBERT:
He laughed. Out loud. And then moaned a bit for the bruises smarted. He spoke to his wife. "Perchance I should give up this foolishness of tournaments and jousting".
His wife ignored him as she scrubbed his face. The action caused him to make a sour face and turn to the right, but she stayed with him wiping the grime from his ears and face. "Nonsense dear," she said, "I have had a marvelous time and so have you." She dipped the rag in vinegar and wiped the rest of his face. He made another face and turned even more to the right to avoid the scrubbing.
"Hercule Achille du Bois Guilbert, you struggle more than your grandsons at bath time!." He made another face and turned to the left and she grasped his chin whiskers. "You will always be my champy-wampion", she cooed.
He glared obliquely and said "where's the Brandy, bread and beef?"
SIR RYANENT D. COOKE, "THE GOLDEN WARRIOR":
Sir Ryanent looked out of the window into the Gisoreux Castle Courtyard, he was not looking at anything, he was deep in thought. A grim expression set on his features and a dire mood on his heart, his fears being realised before his very eyes and he did not know how to stop them from coming to frutation. His thoughts were grim indeed, The Blessed Helm, now in the hands of the victorious Sir Ralph, was Sir Ryanent's only hope of stopping the Chaos invasion that he is certain will come. The Lady Of The Lake had sent him a vision, in the vision he led a great army of Knights whilst wearing the Blessed Helm.
He turned away from the window and changed his thoughts to how he could get the Blessed Helm back, he did not wish to fall too far into dismay, he was, after all, a Knight and his hopes had not yet all come to an end. He may be able to win it back somehow, if that failed he may be able to plea for it from Sir Ralph, if that failed... He would have to ply the Blessed Helm from the body of the fallen Sir Ralph when the Chaos invasion claims the honourable Knight's life, and the lives of all who follow him.
The time will come when Bretonnia will need him to lead its armies against the dread minions of Chaos. The time will come when he will wear the Blessed Helm, of this he was sure. The Lady Of The Lake had given him a vision and she did not lie. As he turned to leave his chambers in the castle to join the festivities below, he also resolved that no matter how doomed his quest for the Helm became, he would never lose his honour.
SIR BRAN BELFORT, KNIGHT OF ROSEMONT CASTLE IN THE PROVINCE OF QUENELLES:
Sir Bran rode into the castle courtyard followed by his faithful squire Rob. The castle's inhabitants gathered round as he held up his trophy for having the most punishing lance. Cheers fill the courtyard for the young knight as his father welcomes him home. A small feast will be held in his honor this night, but will not last long and Sir Bran will be anxious to get started on his quest. For this day has proven him worthy to begin his quest for the Holy Grail.