The One Sought For Lannister Special GI Spoils
As the management sat around what could only be called a round table in a dimly lit room with the odor of burning candles lingering, they were beset with a most terrible dilemma. With the addition of slot machines into their fair race track they simply had too much money. With the king’s taxman coming soon to collect, they simply had to find a home for the excess spoils. A grade one race was said in a hushed tone, which they all nodded in agreement. From the other end of the round table a question was asked. “By what name shall our grade one be known across all of the land?” From another side of the room, “what restrictions shall be placed on our honest competitors?” The large imposing man at the head of the table slowly rose from his seat, and loudly proclaimed, “Our noble contest shall be known as the Lannister Special from this day forth.” The problem of what restrictions to place on the race still hung like a heavy cloud above the group. Finally a man in a robe spoke from a dark corner to the large gentleman at the head of the table, “you know what must be done?” The large man rose, and made his way to a large portrait on the wall, and lifted the painting. Behind the painting was a vault that clearly was from a time far in the past. From the vault a book of great age was taken. As the man made his way back to the table a dark mood had been cast about the room.
For what seemed like an eternity they sat, afraid to break the silence for their noble contest was still without restrictions. With authority the man spoke, “it is time my fellow friends.” As the cover was opened the title could be read, The Holy Book of Conditions was in view for mere moments. Ceremoniously the large man carefully turned page after page until suddenly he stopped. He began to read.
From the Holy Book of Conditions:
“Thou shall make races that are six panels contested on natural earth for 500,000 shillings restricted to horses that have lived upon the earth for six years. For five years is one too few years lived and seven years is one too many years lived. The number is six years, four is two too few, and eight is two too many. Three or nine is way off and shall be forgotten. For this contest to be eternally blessed, the noble beasts that run for contest must only have been on this Earth for six years, and six years is the number.”
The head gentleman rose and spoke, “We know the task before us now gentle folk. We must find the noble creature that will win the Lannister Special.” Into the night they made their way with coconut shells clomping in the background. With the full moon lighting their way they stop at a small cottage in a clearing. They knock and Villas awakens and wanders to the door to answer the late night callers.
Group- Good Sir, your noble steed Came AP (PP 8)(16/1) has been entered, but for what reasons are you sending him to contest?
Villas– He has tasted victory five times, he is worthy. He has treasure in excess of 121K, he is brave. Came AP has covered a contest with a 105 speed, he is quick of foot.
Group- Villas, we find your noble steed to be all of these things indeed, but he has yet to challenge the best in the land, and his quickest contest is not quick enough. We must move on for this is not the creature to take the top prize.
The group rode but a short distance and came upon a large dwelling with a larger stable. Eager to see if this was the final destination, they knocked.
Group- Awaken Wemblem, it is the business of your noble steed Lord Hornblower (PP 12)(14/1) we wish to discuss.
Wemblem– What business have you with him, he has done you no harm.
Group- We wish to find the answer to the question we must know. Is he the one?
Wemblem– He is the one. He has conquered many, and has spoils of over 370K. He has won multiple stakes. He is the one.
Group- Good sir, do not try to deceive us. Your steed, while very talented does not like the brown stuff much. The grass which the sun grows is his favorite mode of travel, and six panels is much to short of a jaunt. Find him a turf race at a mile good sir and you shall be rewarded, for this contest is not for him.
Off into the night the group rode, hoping the next door they visited might be the last. A journey that was surely becoming a quest. A light in the night alerted them of their next stop.
Group- Gentle person we come seeking an audience with Leave it to Dooter (PP 10)(19/1).
Cut2004– My noble steed is a son of the great Jolie’s Halo, his blood is blue, and his greatness is known. He is competing for the 40th time, he is tested and will prevail.
Group- I am sorry friend, but he is not the one we seek. His blood is of noble decadency, that is true, but he does not carry the fire of his father. He has bested no stakes contests, and his best effort of a 100 will surely not be enough. Good luck in your biddings, but we must move on.
The quest continued into the night as a heavy fog enveloped the group. A large fire in the distance was barely seen, but seen none the less. A group of stable boys was warming by the fire.
Group- Where might we find the scoundrel Westbywest?
Stableboys- Why he is in the manor of course.
Group- Westbywest, show yourself, you have entered a beast you call
Westbywest– I have good sirs, and he shall conquer all. He has won with stakes company, he has run 110+, and he is well prepared for this week.
Group- Good lord man, have you no shame? He has been bested by 31 lengths his last two endeavors, he has beaten only six of 28 horses in the same. How are we to find him the one when you have yet to find the proper distance and surface for him to excel? Yet his best efforts of his past could be enough to prevail, but alas, those efforts only paint him to be a seven panel specialist. Perhaps we have misjudged you, a scoundrel you are not, but nor shall you prevail this week.
The group traveled on, coconut shells clomping, arms burning. A small inn was soon in their sight and with it their next prospect.
Koolaid– Quite late for callers is it not? Tis past one in the morn fine sirs.
Group- Our urgency has bested our good sense, but we must see Smokentate (PP 4)(13/1). He could be the one as our quest has dictated.
Koolaid– Mine fine steed has bested graded competitors in the past, and has won countless contests with bounty enough to fill a small castle. He is of regal family lines.
Group- While his star has shone bright in the past, his time has come and gone. 50 previous efforts have drained the brilliance of his once great future which has become his past. He has tasted victory but once in 18 months.
Koolaide– Surly his class among these ordinary foes shall be enough.
Group- While you have a kind heart, we must face the truth. Smokentate was great, but these are now the stories of yore, and the present offers no refunds for time on Earth. The day soon will come when one must make the difficult decision to turn your once proud horse into a damsel of the he-mare variety.
With great sorrow in their hearts the group rod on. For they thought Smokentate was the one, but only victories of the past produced the glow of greatness. A small house on the outskirts of town was next. A knock was made, and a knock was answered.
Group- Kelsorules, we have come seeking an audience with your fine horse Flying Solo (PP 1)(10/1) who surely is named after a young lads favorite pastime. He has had many contests and could be the one.
Kelsorules– Friends, while I have entered many battles with my fine beast, it is no longer glory we seek. We only long for the race. To prepare, to give one’s all, to tell the tales of races past is what we long for now. Of course we still want every stinking breeding point we can score, but our days of stakes hunting are long in the past.
Group- He has run glorious speeds in the past, he could be the one.
Kelsorules– He will give a fine effort gentle folk, but he is not who you seek. Six furlongs is simply to short a test for my weathered friend, longer he must go to win.
On into the night the group moved coconuts shells clomping away. Along the trial they spotted a horse and rider moving towards town and the track. This was not an ordinary horse, for it was decorated in bright colors with the number 2 on his saddle cloth.
Group- We have ridden many hours seeking the one, might you be Tejanoroy?
Tejanoroy– I am, and you are not seeking me, but my horse Holland Park (PP2)(6/1).
Group- You are wise friend, perhaps you could help us determine how these coconut shells made their way to the fine state of Pennsylvania?
Tejanoroy– Swallows of course, most likely of the African breed, but what has that to do with my horse?
Group- Nothing wise one, but of your steed we are troubled. He clearly is an outstanding horse, and could win, but we do not see his future ending in the circle of winners.
Tejanoroy– He can win.
Group- While he can win, there are many dark forces fighting this outcome. He has been good three contests in a row, and that leads to the terrible plague called the big bounce. His talent is great, but no force can stop the big bounce. We must now big you a fond farewell as the hour is late, and still we have not found the one.
Once again after a short ride with coconut shells clomping away, the group once again finds it’s self at the same large dwelling with a larger stable. Wemblem’s twin brother Waremblem5 answered the door.
Waremblem5– You have found the one, your quest can mercilessly come to an end. Just look at Vae Victus (PP6)(5/1), he is a son of Tabasco Cat, a royal line indeed. 750K in winnings, many stakes wins, you need look no further.
Group- Do you take us for fools? Your horse while great is what is called in this land a miler. A sprinter he is not. For when your horse begins to run, the contest shall be done. You good sir shall be rewarded with your effort however, as it is in the stars that you shall be in the money at the contest’s conclusion.
As the group turned, yet another brother arrived at the front entrance. Waremblem2, the eldest of the clan spoke his case.
Waremblem2- Blazing Glory (PP 3)(7/1) is who you seek this late night. Six panels is a distance he prefers, and dirt is the surface he runs. A closers resume he sports.
Group- Fine fellow, while your horse of great accomplishments is indeed blessed with skills, he prefers to follow the leader. In the hunt he shall be, but short he shall fall. The effort shall not be wasted, as a pay check waits for his toils. One win since 06’ does not bode well.
Waremblem2– Surely his father More than Ready has some sway in these lands.
Groups- Indeed he does, but do not tarnish his legend, make your own.
With dawn fast approaching the group began to believe that this quest was not to be. Like the Grizwald quest for fun, this quest was dragging on and on. But forward they drove coconut shells clomping all the way. Stopping at a tavern along the way, while good for a hearty brew seemed the wrong place to find the one.
Bartender- What brings you hearty folks out at such an hour?
Group- We seek a person called Bezza1975.
Bezza1975– That is I. But your true purpose is outside in the form of my legendary steed Four More Years (PP 5)(6/1). He is in fine form as of late. He shall not disappoint.
Group- Indeed he has been in fine form. What a fine beats he is to run well from 5 to 9 furlongs. A fine trainer you must be as well. But we are trouble by his lack of a stakes win in many a day. Can he find the magic that once flowed through his veins?
Bezza1975– The magic is there, he can not lose.
Group- He shall hit the board with his effort for sure, a first place finish he shall not see however.
As the dull orange of morning began to show the group slowed to a stop in front of a magnificent house of gold and jewels. As they made their way up the driveway, their attention was diverted by the glitter of the morning sun off of the jeweled façade. To the left stood a magnificent beast of 17 hands. Not a young horse, still full of power, but the calm of age.
Grrm– A fine horse is he not? One of the greats I would say. Grade I’s II’s and III’s have all been his, he has nothing left to prove. A sprinter he is, and big speed figures he throws. Casterly Rock (PP7)(9/2) is the name he goes by and the name people know across the land. He has won in
Group- Why exactly are you talking in prose? It makes no sense. Will you stop it for just five pence? Your horse while great indeed, his last outing shall be his great undoing. For even as great as he is, he is not immune to the big bounce. Fret not though, his less than best is still plenty good to collect a check. Many a day he is the best, but on this day his best will only be second best.
As the yellow glow of the morning son shone across the land, the world awakes to a fine day, but still the quest continues. With no time left to find the one, the group began to canter home, coconut shells clomping away. As the began to cross a bridge leading home a young rider approached with the grace and confidence of a polished winner. The horse was a wonder to behold.
Pm– It is I you seek. My horse has done it all. I do not bother with small contests. Graded races are what seek, and my noble horse Act of Brave (PP9)(6/1) is the union of many royal lines. His best distance is what this race seeks, and his best surface is what this race offers.
Group- Is he fleet a foot enough for victory?
Pm– Is a 115 in a grade one enough?
Group- It is.