[!] The poster is of a crisp and creamy parchment, the straight edges encased in silver.

Greetings Spirelings, 

        ‘tis I, Ser Falliren Rytelus, the most colorful knight in the Reach, writing this public notice to beseech. As of my latest duel in the tourney, I’ve achieved seven-consecutive-wins! But a problem presents itself therein. A knight must strive to uphold fairness and my domination is simply unfair. To rectify this shortcoming, I shall offer to those of the town---a reward to whomever breaks my streak: a prize of eighty-eight crowns. That is my humble request: to put me to the test.

        However, I am highly sought after and my demand will only rise sharply after this missive. Popularity is rather cumbersome so I must be somewhat dismissive. Schedule a match and wait patiently. With the tournament ongoing, I am obliged to be in top condition for the other competitors. If you challenge me the night before a match, I will refuse. Even though I would win, I’ll be in lesser shape nonetheless and I cannot dishonour the tournament with unreadiness. Disregard the award if you’re a squire or a child, ‘tis not honourable to duel them. 

Let us put on an exciting show!

Yours truly,

        Ser Falliren Rytelus

Tacked to the missive is a scribbled note:




I'll take your challenge.
- Sangiban

Rather than placing a notice on the board, Falliren would find a letter slipped under his door. Florals swirled about the corner of the page, decorating it.

Dear Falli,

I would love to take you up on this. Can we use training weapons? I would love to show you how much practice I have been putting in. But I fear the idea of shedding my own blood is still too much for me to handle.

Kind Regards,

Blythe

After having someone read the news for him, Van Pelt has his secretary sign him up for a stab at the winnings.