# ASoIaF RPG - A Tourney of Gulls IC



## Cor Azer (Jun 29, 2011)

"Gulls," thought Haken, and not for the first time that day. Seeing the servants of House Vantri scurry through the courtyard preparing the Ser Laton and Ser Jarl's entourage always made him think of the pestering sea birds - each may have had a particular task, but their seemingly random movements just looked like chaos.

"There are no gulls here, Haken." The soft voice caught the guard by surprise. Little Lisa Vantri could be as silent in her step as she was incessant with her questions.

"An expression, my lady," clarified Haken. "My father always called young knights at play 'gulls'. They may far outnumber the falcons, dragons, and stags in this world, but few have any hope of being as important."

"Laton says he can win. That's important."

"Your brother is good, as is your uncle." Haken knew he'd be hard-pressed to hold his own against either of them, but then, he was no knight anointed in the name of the Seven. He was a guard, a veteran of several clansmen raids to be sure, but still just a guard. And a bastard one at that.

"I hope he wins. I don't want to marry a pigsherd."

"A what?" Haken laughed. "Why should you marry a pigsherd?"

"Laton said so," Lisa grimaced. "He said that the younger sister of a disgraced knight was to marry a pigsherd. Does House Brocklyn have a pigsherd?"

"I couldn't say, my lady. I've never been to Lakelights. But if the men there like their bacon, I'm sure they have a pigsherd."

"I don't like bacon."

"Eh now, that a fact?"

"Yes. And if I have to marry a pigsherd, I shall say, 'No more bacon! You'll make something of yourself!'"

"Very assertive of you, my lady. I'm sure every pigsherd will rise to your challenge."

A firm harrumph cuts Haken off. The guard and young lady turn to see a septa tapping her foot.

"Truly, Lisa? You know better than to harangue the guards."

"I meant no harm, Septa," pleads the young girl.

"It makes no matter. You are to be a lady, and a lady does not consort with this... sort." Septa Diennie gave Haken Stone a withering look, and the guard know she spoken not of his occupation.

"Yes, Septa." The girl took a few steps towards her tutor, but stopped and turned back to Haken. "You're going too?" Barely waiting for his nod, Lisa continued, "Keep them safe, Haken."

The guard smiled. "Like as not, they'll be protecting me, my lady."

After the lady and septa leave him alone, Haken Stone picks up his pack and carries it over to one of the baggage carts, heaving it up into place.

"Haken!" The firm voice commanded respect, and the guard turned to attention. Lord Loughton Vantri stood at the head of the baggage cart, his left hand braced upon his weirwood cane, and his right clutching a rolled parchment.

"My lord. How can I help you?"

"You can ready the men to be gone in an hour. A raven has arrived from Upfall. It seems Ser Gough Crelling is also travelling to Lakelights and hopes to meet Laton and Jarl at the crossroads and travel as a group."

Haken nods. "We'll be ready, my lord."

"Now, to find that son and brother of mine." The crippled man seemed twice as old as he hobbled away on his cane, but Haken Stone smirked to himself as he heard Lord Vantri mutter, "Damn gulls..."

---

So there's the start. I know it's not much to work with, but I wanted to give you players a chance to interact with some of the household before the trip to Lakelights. Let me know how your character is preparing for the ride.

OOC Thread: http://www.enworld.org/forum/talking-talk/303188-asoiaf-rpg-tourney-gulls-recruiting.html
Character Sheets: http://www.enworld.org/forum/rogues-gallery/305284-asoiaf-rpg-tourney-gulls-houses-characters.html


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## DrZombie (Jun 29, 2011)

Laton could hear the noise from the courtyard from the top of the keep. The shouting of men, the braying of the animals. He could even spot his little sister haranguing Haken. It wasn’t the first time he’d leave his lands, but still, there was a sense of things to come, and not all of them well.

“Hello, Voss” He says without turning around. The master of the bows, silent as a shadow, just grunts as he stands besides the young lord.
“I know, I should head down to the courtyard, if only to save Haken from my sister.”
Laton sighs, taking in the looks of the wooded valley around him.
“It is just a tourney, Voss, but I cannot shake the feeling that a lot will depend on it. We have fallen on hard times. Either we turn around the decline, or we will be forgotten, barely a step above hedge knights.”
The grizzled veteran just grunts, and puts a callused hand on Laton’s shoulder.
“You’ll do well, lad. Follow your uncle’s advice, and fight like a man. The rest lies with the seven. Now get going.”

With a grim smile, Laton picks up his backpack and heads downstairs. Time to go.


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## Captain Impossible (Jun 29, 2011)

"Mmmmmmm." 

The contented sound, muffled by a mouthful of bread, escaped Jarl as he stood by the door of the keep's bakery. Cedarmane and Bellflower looked on, their bridles tied to the post. The morning cool still hung in air, perfectly balancing the heat of the ovens.

"Anything else, Ser?" asked Berta, wiping flour from her hands with her apron. 

"No, thank you. Buttered bread could bring happiness to the whole world," Jarl replied. He took another bite from the bread in his hand, the wooden plate having been abandoned on a counter in the kitchen. "Still cooking? If my brother wasn't so fond of you and your cooking, he'd be upset at your tardiness," he teased.

"Heh, I finished up your provisions hours ago. But those of us staying have to eat also. No wonder we need a maester," Berta retorted without missing a beat. "Just remember to keep the pointy end of the lance facing the other way, philosopher." Her broad figure shook as she chuckled. "Now, clean the crumbs out of your beard and get ready. You have to get going, and I can't stand around giving charity to beggars."

"I'm practically done," Jarl said as he approached his rounseys. The saddle and bags were ready before dawn, but had been placed on a bench, as Jarl didn't want to burden his horses with the weight if they were just going to stand around. "Cedarmane, you've got the bags today. Which means Bellflower is stuck with me." He petted the horses, then got to work loading the horses with their respective loads and fastening the belts so that they would be secure but comfortable for the horses.

When he was done, he led the rounseys to the courtyard, where the train was starting to form up.


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## jackslate45 (Jun 29, 2011)

Robin stood ready in the hall, geared up and ready to go.  He had just received word to be ready in an hour, but had been ready long before that. He knew that being ready was what made him, one born of common blood, able to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Lords of House Vantri.

As Lord Vantri approached, Robin bowed low and said "Good Morning Lord Vantri. The seven bless us today, as every day.  I have recieved word that your Ser Jarl and Ser Laton await you in the courtyard, ready to depart with the rest.  Is there anything else I can assist you with at this time?"


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## Cor Azer (Jun 30, 2011)

Lord Vantri turns in step with Robin back towards the courtyard, although his limping gait slows his pace. Loughton places a key in Robin's hand, "The chest of gold dragons has been stowed at the bottom of the baggage cart; Laton has the other key. The Seven bless Laton and Jarl to do well, but should the Warrior not be at their side, at least the ransom can be paid. I'll leave it to the discretion of you, Laton, and Jarl if other expenses appear."

As the two enter the courtyard, the Lord of Splinterhold squints as the morning sun strikes him, causing him to avert his eyes. Before they can adjust, a newly sewn banner of House Vantri unfurls, hanging from the front of the baggage cart, and then a second one on the opposite side.

"I had Gilla sewn them for our valiant knights," explains Loughton, even though he knows Robin paid for the materials.

"One other task for you while you're at Lakelights, Robin." The lord hands the rolled parchment he carries to his steward. "Laton and Jarl will be too busy, focusing on the jousts, so this must fall to you. Word came in last night about an accident at one of the House Erenger mines; no injuries, thank the Seven, but it will cost them dearly to repair it. Offer what assistance we can; our mines are doing well, and if Lord Ryam needs are ore for his smithies, we should be able to supply some." A wry smirk passes across his lips, "Just don't let that old scoundrel cheat us out of our own mine."

A trumpet blast splits the air, announcing the group's departure.

"Off with you then!"

Lord Loughton takes a few more shambling steps forward and catches the attention of his son and brother. "Honor bends nor breaks! Heed the Warrior, and may the Seven bless you."

***

Haken watches the two knights at the head of the column deep in conversation; likely some strategy for dealing with other knights expected to attend the tourney. The entourage had been traveling for a few hours now, and was making good time to reach the crossroads for a noontime break.

"Two banners!"

"Eh? Two?" asks Haken. "Crelling for one. Who's the other?"

"Dunno. A waterfall and tower, and an embattled black and grey pily for the other."

"The tower is Ser Crelling. The other..." Haken thinks for a moment. He can't hear the two knights ahead who would be mostly like to know, but then he recalls for the last Tourney at Sunkenwood. "Ser Rolston the Grey. House Tollett. Oh Sevens! Pick up the pace! We should get their and rescue the old man from Ser Gough before that blowhard regales him of another victorious joust against a rack of lamb."


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## Captain Impossible (Jun 30, 2011)

Ser Jarl took his place at the side of his nephew. "So, boy, ready to remind the other knights of the Vale what it feels like to get knocked on their arse?" he said, punctuating his question with a short laugh. He figured Laton had to be nervous. 

With the sound of a ship sail catching the wind, the banners were unfurled over the baggage cart. He gazed upon the seven pines, a common sight for him. He remembered the first time he saw new banners made. He was going to Gulltown to fight the usurpers with his two brothers.

Jarl's mind snapped out of his remembrance by his brother's words. "Honor bends nor breaks," he said in reply. "Pray our lances to be honorable. May the Seven watch over you."

-----

"I wouldn't get worried over ransom. No one makes a point of trying to drive a house into poverty based on a joust. If it's a Corbray or Royce who beats you, they might forego a ransom. Though being beaten then pitied is a double hammer blow to one's pride when your lifting yourself out of the mud. Worse comes to worse, buy a new horse and armor. Just be honorable in victory or defeat, and everything else will be fine."

The answer was long, and spoke about more than Laton had asked, but he felt Laton's uneasiness since the morning. The boy definitely felt the weight of his position. Jarl wondered how much of that weight he had placed on his nephew's back, during training, telling tales of what their household used to be. 

As Haken identified the two knights awaiting, Jarl nudged his nephew. "Forward, boy. You should make the greeting."


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## DrZombie (Jun 30, 2011)

"And you also, Father." Laton replies. He blows a kiss at his little sister and shouts "I promise to pick the most handsome swineherd, Milady."

-----

"I'm not a boy anymore, uncle. Boy's don't fight tournaments, remember." he says with a smile. "You must be getting really old if you start forgetting that, greybeard."

He gives his horse free reign for a minute. Eager to take the lead, she pulls ahead. "Easy, lass, save it for the tournament."

A few minutes later they arrive at the crossroads. The other two groups have allready arrived, and Laton could hear the bragging from afar. He dismounted and greeted the two elder knights with a functional but polite bow.
"Ser Rolston, Ser Gough. What a pleasure to meet you here. On your way to the tournament as well, no doubt?"


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## jackslate45 (Jul 1, 2011)

"Of course my lord, it will be done." Robin says with a smile, pocketing the key carefully.  

----

Robin was never used to horses, and all this riding had gotten his legs all sore.  However, with a smile to the the knights Robin says "As long as you do not lose too much, we should be fine."  


After Ser Laton made the introduction, Robin also dismounted, and waited in turn to be introduced be either Laton or Jarl, but bows low in the meantime.


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## Cor Azer (Jul 1, 2011)

"Ser Laton!" shouts Ser Gough as the House Vantri knights approach the crossroads. The beer-bellied knight attempts to rise, but his foot slips on a discarded chicken bone. He catches himself on a nearby stump, but smears chicken grease across his surcoat as he balances himself. He hearty roar bursts from his lips as he surveys the disaster of his garb. "Ser Jarl as well! Well met!" In mock shame he gestures to his disarray, "I'd clasp your hands, but I'm afraid I'd soil you as well." He glances about, looking for something. "Wes! Wes, you clout! My cloth!" A young boy in the livery of House Crelling runs about, waving a cloth nearly as soiled as Ser Gough's surcoat. "Wes Crelling, my nephew and squire," explains Ser Gough, ignoring the boy except for taking the cloth.

Ser Rolston shakes his head disapprovingly at the scene, and rises much more somberly. "Now that courtesy has been paid to my host, I'll leave you two to this..." Ser Rolston frowns. "Jackanape." The elder knight takes one last swig of ale and sets the mug down on a stump. He nods curtly to Ser Gough, but with more respect to Ser Laton and Ser Jarl, and again out of politeness to Robin, but then turns and strides off. After a few moments, a young teen in the livery of House Erenger scurries after the Tollett knight.

"Ah... Ahem... Yes," stammers Ser Gough. "A... ah... pleasant fellow, Ser Rolston is." For just a split second, a hint of a sneer slips across his face, but he turns back to the Vantri lords with a smile. "But, please, my manners are atrocious! As I said, this is my squire, Wes. And over here, my lady friend, Dawlyn, and her maid-in-waiting... Tria... Syrine... something like that."

"Hanna, if it please my lords."

"Yes, yes... Yolanna..." agrees Ser Gough. "And up in yon cart is my personal maester, Karlon." The knight doesn't even wait for the maester to acknowledge the new arrivals before he continues, "And, as impromptu host, it seems it falls to me to introduce you to Ser Rolston's squire. An Erenger boy... uh..."

"Ollin, Ser," adds Wes, completely differential to his uncle.

"Yes, Ollin Erenger. Bright lad - knew the full history of my House without pause." He gestures to the empty stumps arrayed around several spitted chickens. "But please, join me for a lunch before we continue on the road."


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## Captain Impossible (Jul 1, 2011)

Ser Jarl dismounted. He gave Ser Rolston a polite bow, as he was the eldest knight present. He then returned Ser Gough's welcome. "Thank you for your offer. I think the train could use a brief rest."

Jarl took a seat on a stump, grasping his bastard sword's pommel and levering it against his hip so that it wouldn't catch as he sat. "So, tell me, how long have you been waiting?" He propped his shield against the side of his stump.


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## DrZombie (Jul 1, 2011)

"Thank you for your hospitality, good Ser. Allow me to introduce the rest of my retinue. You obviously know Ser Jarl. This is Robin, a valuad adviser to our household. If you are in danger of running out of fierce chickens to dismember, I can allways ask cook to roast up some more?"

He then makes a deep bow to lady Dalwin, and more importantly, her lady in waiting.
"Miladies, I am pleased to make your acquaintance on this fine noon. I hope the travelling hasn't been too taxing?"


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## jackslate45 (Jul 2, 2011)

Robin in turn bows towards towards the people Ser Gough introduces, and once introduced by Ser Laton says "It is an honor to eat along side you and your House Ser Gough.  I hope that you will forgive my knowledge skills, as I am sure your House is quite impressive enough that one such as I could hardly remember it all."


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## Cor Azer (Jul 2, 2011)

Watching the three knights and the steward share their meal a short distance away, Haken takes a seat near one of the other House Vantri guards with some roast coney. The guard shakes his head in disbelief. "Haken, did you know House Crelling did so much? That Ser Gough has been going on for near an hour."

Haken snorts in derision. "House Crelling was founded barely ten years ago. One Lord Arryn's minor knights given land. And Ser Gough? He's a knight because his brother made him so - if the tales be true, the man hasn't an honourable or virtuous bone in his body. But, what he does better than devour roast chicken is weave a tale. I heard the man once speak such that a rabbit hunt was an epic worthy of Aegon the Conqueror."

The veteran guard takes a few more bites out of the coney leg, and then nods to where Ser Rolston's mounts were tethered. "When did they leave?"

"A short while ago, while you were securing the mounts."

"They say anything?"

"Ser Rolston believes a rainstorm is coming. I think he wanted to get to the Three Creeks Inn before then."

"Rainstorm? Miserable traveling in that." Haken finishes one more bite of his coney and then stands. "One of you go tell the lords, the rest of you, get ready to move out on the lord's say."


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## Captain Impossible (Jul 3, 2011)

Ser Jarl sat with the others and conversed. Unfortunately, most of the conversing was done by Ser Gough. When not telling a tale about hunting, drinking, or fornicating, Gough didn't seem to listen so much as wait to start talking anew. Jarl comforted himself in the knowledge that Ser Gough would at least be an easy target to hit on a tilt.

"Tell me, Ser Gough, what do you believe is the great prize alluded to but never told in the invitation?" Jarl asked, immediately regretting giving the knight another chance to speak. It was with some relief when he saw Talmond, one of the guards, approach.

"My apologies for cutting in, Sers, but Haken wanted me to tell you that a rainstorm is coming. Haken is readying the train to move out for the Three Creeks Inn at your command," Talmond said, trying his best appear formal. Talmond had a lean build, and a youthful voice and appearance, enough that strangers frequently assumed he was a tall youth. Only a boxer's nose and a faint scar along his jawline hinted that he had a grown man's share of experience fighting clansmen.

Jarl stood up. "Thank you, Talmond." He looked at the sky. "I notice it now. Ser Laton, Ser Gough, Robin, should we put this conversation to an end, and make for the inn?"


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## jackslate45 (Jul 4, 2011)

"What is the problem Ser Jarl, afraid a little rain will melt you?" Robin says with a laugh. However, he was secretly glad to get moving again.  He did not think he could handle more of Ser Gough's tales.  And traveling in rain was never fun.  

 He stands up and says "While I jest, I do believe we should be on the way.  I am sure we can continue any discussion at the Three Creeks Inn. "

Spotting Haken, Robin walks up to him and asks "Do we have everything ready then? "


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## DrZombie (Jul 6, 2011)

Laton gets up just a tad too quickly and smiles. "Yes, let us be on our way."
"My dear Uncle, I'll leave you the honour of riding with Ser Gough. It is my turn for the advance scouting with Haken, if I'm not mistaken."
He makes another polite bow to Ser Gough, his uncle and the two ladies and quickly heads off to his horse.


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## Captain Impossible (Jul 7, 2011)

"Melt? No. I may rust, though," Ser Jarl said as he picked up his shield. "We should move along though. I'm concerned if Ser Rolston is traveling alone. There are bandits and clansmen in these parts."

"You are mistaken, boy," he turned to Laton. "Haken is staying with the cart. Talmond, keep this pup out of trouble." Jarl didn't like Laton being out front. Skewering a clansman or two was no reason to put himself in danger.


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## Cor Azer (Jul 7, 2011)

The rainstorm kindly holds off until the House Vantri and House Crelling group is on the road for a few minutes before closing in. When it does however, it opens in a torrent that quickly leaves the ground a muddy mess and most of the group drenched beneath sodden cloaks. Only Ser Gough's lady and her maid-in-waiting are spared, seated comfortably and dryly within their covered wagon.

Conversation is kept to a minimum; Ser Gough only relates two stories of his daring in charm, but thankfully, the splatter of rain keeps most everyone else from catching more than a stray word.

By late afternoon, the worst of the storm seems to pass, the rain dropping off to a faint drizzle.

"Now, as I was saying," drones Ser Gough. "Ser Terald is known for two things - his castle and his sword."

"He doesn't have his sword anymore, Ser," interrupts Wes. "His brother stole it."

"To be sure, to be sure," agrees Ser Gough, "Except, what if he got it back?" Not waiting for an answer, the portly knight continues. "Now, it's a terrible family scandal of course, brother slays heir and wife, steals sword. Horrible. Just horrible. Still, can you imagine a man, a knight... a husband and father! not doing everything in his power to lay justice at his murderous brother's feet? The Warrior would not allow it!" Ser Gough stabs a chubby finger out in front of Ser Jarl, "But now, here's my thinking. If he succeeded. If he did find and kill his brother... would he make it public? I wouldn't. Keep that family tragedy in the past. Seek justice, yes, but the family's honor must come first, and that means keeping your nose out of scandal."

Further back, Haken shook his head. To Robin beside him, the guard whispers, "That resembles no honor I've heard of."

Unaware, Ser Gough continues. "But now Ser Terald has his sword back, but he can't keep it. No, it just opens up old wounds, if you'll excuse the pun. So, he holds a tourney! Oh valorous knights do tilt for his most precious prize - the sword he cannot keep." Ser Gough nods confidently. "That, Ser Jarl. That is the prize we seek - no less than a Valyrian steel -"

The knight's triumphant conclusion is cut off by a shrill scream further ahead on the road. A wretched and pathetic cry of pain - inhuman - blares out, piercing through the light mist that stills hangs in the air.


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## Captain Impossible (Jul 8, 2011)

Ser Jarl listened as Ser Gough told him his theory. Jarl was surprised that the notorious lecher wasn't speculating on Ser Terald's daughter. It was with some humor Jarl then suspected that the fat knight was keeping it to himself, for fear of somehow jinxing his odds, as if keeping his thoughts secret would help him on his horse.

The moment was shattered as the cry sounded across the travelers. "Haken! Guard the carriage with the others," Ser Jarl barked as he immediately urged Bellflower to bring him alongside his nephew and Talmond. His war lance was lifted from its resting position as he surveyed his surroundings.


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## DrZombie (Jul 9, 2011)

Making sure his mace is within easy reach, Laton cautiously advances._ Must be a horse that broke a leg._


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## jackslate45 (Jul 9, 2011)

Robin had smiled and was about to reply to Haken when that noise was heard.  A fear of the unknown crept over him, and he watched as Ser Jarl and Ser Laton prepared for what was comming.  He looks over at Haken and asks "What could it be to make such a sound?"


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## Cor Azer (Jul 9, 2011)

"That sound, Robin," replies Haken. "That sound is one every knight knows. A maimed horse." The veteran guard slows the baggage cart and draws his sword. "The real question, is who else may have heard?" To the rest of the guard, Haken orders, "Watch for clansmen. I can't see the clouts wasting a horse for an ambush, but they may be about anyways. Eyes open."

Well ahead of the baggage cart, Talmond crests the ridge before Ser Laton. "Over here, Ser!" Louder than he wished, but the screams of the horse drowned out his first call.

As Ser Jarl brings his steed up beside his nephew, the two knights see Talmond's find. A richly garbed palfrey lies strewn across the ground at the bottom of a muddy downslope, one front leg still caught in a root, and the other bent, bloody and broken, in three different places.

"What chase, my Sers!?" calls Ser Gough as he approaches; a quiver in his voice seems less enthusiastic than his words.

"Two riders, Sers." says Talmond as he careful pulls up beside the downed horse. "Young lad, he's breathing but out... and... By the Mother... Sers. I think the lady's pregnant."


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## ShaggySpellsword (Jul 11, 2011)

At Haken's orders, Pate directs the rest of the guards into a perimeter around the wagon and riders.  Holding his hand above his eyes to shield the glare from the non-existant sun, Pate opens his eyes wide, sits up in his saddle, and starts to survey the surrounding area.  

 "Y'know Haken, we might be lucky.  The beast might jus' bring down the shadowcats on us.  I could do with a new cloak."


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## DrZombie (Jul 12, 2011)

Laton dismounts to check on the two unconscious nobles.

"Quickly, bring the cart. We need to get them to the inn."

He draws his dagger from his belt and approaches the horse. The panicked screaming cuts of sharply. He cleans the dagger before putting it away and remounts, strapping on his shield and readying his mace while scanning the area.

"The 'cats will wait untill we're gone to eat the horse. The clansmen will strike if they see weakness."


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## Captain Impossible (Jul 12, 2011)

Ser Jarl rode to the side of Laton, but does not dismount. "Talmond, keep an eye to your side of the road. This reeks of trickery," Jarl said as he positioned himself between Laton and the left side of the road. Chivalry  called for helping the injured. But his skill at the healing arts was unremarkable, and while his nephew was dismounted, he needed to stay on horseback in case someone endangered Laton.

Without taking his eyes off the flank, Jarl said "Ser Gough. Kindly help my nephew tend to the injured." Ser Jarl figured that the decadent knight would be as unskilled fighting mounted as dismounted, and should at least be of use in some way.

_Come on, you thugs,_ Jarl thought. _You won't be the first men I've skewered._


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## jackslate45 (Jul 13, 2011)

Robin stayed close to Harken, knowing his skills in battle was useless.  He had a hand on his dagger, but hoping that he never had to draw it.


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## Cor Azer (Jul 13, 2011)

Ser Gough sends a brief withering look at Ser Jarl, but after a side glance at the dead horse, he turns his mount around and gallops back to his maester's cart. 

In short order, Ser Gough returns with Maester Karlon, who immediately kneels to tend to the two unconscious riders. "They breath fine, Sers," says Karlon, who then proceeds to quickly check on the pregnant lady. 

"A bump on the head," he concludes. "Serious, to be sure, but no lasting damage, we can hope. I won't be able to say for sure until she wakens." His hand feels her belly, testing at the babe's reaction. "Again, I can say without talking to her, but I suspect she's only a few months along, and the babe seems in no distress." The maester rises and waves Talmond over. "Help me lift them into the cart."

"I don't recognize either," says Ser Gough, hungrily eyeing the unconscious lady. "Such a beautiful woman to be riding all but alone out here."

"Her brooch is twined snake, Ser. She may be one of Lord Lynderly's daughters," answers Maester Karlon. "But I don't know a name."

"Ho! Ho! And the lad some squire, valiantly protecting her, I'm sure," jests the rotund knight. He tosses a wicked smile at Ser Laton. "For sure she has nothing to fear with us brave knights, would you say Ser Laton?"

Pointedly ignoring the crude knight, Talmond nods to Ser Jarl. "You look like you're watching that shadowcat pretty intently, Ser. You want to try and catch it, or just let it have the horse after we move on?"

Further back along the trail, Haken's muscles relax a bit. "It's ok, Robin. I think you can put your dagger away. If the clansmen were to strike, they'd have done so while the Maester was tending the riders, not now that we're near ready to go again." Then louder so Ser Laton can hear, "On your word, Ser."

"Oh, and Pate. Make sure you keep an eye on that shadowcat Ser Jarl saw. We don't want it making a cloak of us."

"You want a shadowcat cloak?" asks Ser Gough, "That's nothing. I have a hrakken pelt in my room, all the way from the Dothraki Sea. Would have killed the beast myself if my guide hadn't stolen my kill..." The knight's story trails off as he rides ahead, unaware that nobody yet follows him.

"Ser Laton," whispers Maester Karlon as he passes the Vantri heir while getting in his cart. "I don't think Ser Gough realizes this, but the squire is no squire, nor a boy at all. She is well... A young woman, but for some reason dressed as a squire."


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## DrZombie (Jul 13, 2011)

"Stranger and stranger. She will have her reasons. We'll see if she wants to share them if she's awake. It might be better not to draw attention to it." He quitly responds to the Maester.

"Let's go gentlemen. It would be most unwise to keep Ser Gough from his supper any longer."


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## ShaggySpellsword (Jul 14, 2011)

Pate directs his garron to the rear of the column, keeping his eyes on the shadowcat as the rest of the group rides on.  As he rides to the back, out of Ser Gough's earshot, he mutters,

"I don't know what a Hrakken is, but it sounds quite a great, mighty beast.  Or at least a mighty great beast to serve his lordship's cloak.  Shadowcat'd be good enough for Pate."


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## Captain Impossible (Jul 14, 2011)

"Leave it, Talmond," replies Ser Jarl. "We don't want to hazard time and men when we need to get those two medical attention. Besides, shadowcats help to keep the clansmen population in check."

As the party travels, Ser Jarl briefly slows down until he is next to the wagon. In a whisper, he says to Haken and Robin, "Keep an eye on the wounded. Ser Gough reputation is known, and I can only speculate at the company he keeps."

With that said, Ser Jarl guides his rounsey back to its original position in the train.


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## jackslate45 (Jul 14, 2011)

Robin nodded towards the Maester, and rode the horse closer to the cart.  He sheathed the dagger he carried, and breathed a sigh of relief knowing that it was safer.


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## Cor Azer (Jul 15, 2011)

To the west, the last of the setting sun's rays slip across the peaks of the Mountains of the Moon, throwing a dazzling rainbow into the cool evening sky as the light drizzle that hung in the air all afternoon tapers off, and the clouds begin pulling back, revealing a stunning red glow in the twilight.

"Blood," says Hanna, to no one in particular.

"What's that now?" Haken looks to the young woman riding next to the baggage cart. With the end of the drizzle, Ser Gough's lady Dawlyn and her maid-in-waiting decided to ride in the open.

"The sky's have wept, and now show that blood will spill." Hanna looks from Haken to Robin, and then turns forward, as if looking for some distant object. "This very night."

"Hanna, child," coos Dawlyn softly in her native Braavosi tongue, but easily understood by the steward riding beside Haken. "Do not frighten the men. They would not understand." Then, in the common tongue of Westeros, although still thick with her Braavosi accent, she turns to Haken and Robin. "Fear not. Hanna is sometimes plagued with wisps of nightmares. Lys may be known for its beauty, but for those outside the city, nearer the Disputed Lands, the constant fighting and occasional Dothraki khalasar can be most terrifying." Dawlyn gently places her hand on Hanna's wrist, and the maid-in-waiting smiles shyly.

"Indeed."

A sharp slap from the maester's cart interrupts Haken's thoughts.

"...-meant no disrespect. I had to remove the bindings to help you breath!" Maester Karlon's voice is barely heard through the heavy drapes of his wagon.

"My lady?", asks a quavering voice, also from within the maester's wagon.

"Still unconscious I'm afraid. You both took a terrible fall back in the woods. But she is doing well, as is the babe." Some rustling is made behind the heavy drapes, and the wagon rocks a bit. "No, please, lie down. You're not fully recovered."

"Maester, I thank you, but there are things that must be known... and things that must not be."

"And they will be. They will be." says Maester Karlon, his calm voice becoming harder to hear. "We're almost at the Three Creeks Inn. You'll be able to get up and about there, but for now, you should still rest."

Further up the column, Talmond drops back to ride along nearer to Ser Laton and Ser Jarl. "Inn's just over the next rise, Sers." He nods towards a rustling creek that snakes along the road beside them. "Wouldn't be surprised if our supper was swimming in there right now."

"Eh? Supper?" asks Ser Gough, some distance behind. Talmond rolls his eyes upon hearing what was undoubtedly the knight's stomach growl. "I believe I'll be having mutton myself. Fish from the creek is not the type of fishy taste I prefer." He slaps his knee as he roars with laughter, amused at his own secret wit.

When the ridge is crested, the Three Creeks Inn is cloaked in the cool shadows of tall pine trees. The inn itself is a solidly built structure of stone and timber, two storeys high, and nearly 20 yards to a side. Apart from the inn proper, two other buildings stand nearby - one a stable, and the other some sort of storehouse. The three creeks that lend their name to the inn meet in a small pool behind the stable, and several horses drink from the fresh water while tied to nearby posts.

"Ser Rolston's here already," says Talmond, pointing out the elderly knight's banner beside his horse, currently being groomed by his squire Ollin Erenger.

A swish of air draws attention to the far side of the creek, where a dashing young man balances easily on a stump, whipping a thin blade about him in an intricate show. "Just so!" he announces, striking an elaborate pose as he finishes his display. After holding it for a moment, he notices the new arrivals on the ridge, and then he flips his blade upright behind his back and bows so deeply, the plume from his hat nearly grazes the ground. A sharp click of his heels, and the bravo is upright again, and continues practicing his display, punctuating it with zestful, "Just so!"

"There doesn't seem to be many horses in the stable right now, Ser Laton," notes Talmond. "Do you want us to set up camp here in the field, or do you want to settle in the inn?"


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## DrZombie (Jul 22, 2011)

"We'll setup inside the inn. That poor woman needs all the rest she can get, even if it's for only one night. I doubt the lad that accompanies her will want to part from her side. W'ell figure roome as soon as we know what's available." the young man says after a while, his mind clearly on something else.


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## Cor Azer (Jul 22, 2011)

The inside of the inn is dry, but a bit cool - the big common room fireplace has yet to be lit for the evening, although a warm breeze wafts in from the kitchen, smelling faintly of fresh bread and roast mutton.

The common room itself is nearly empty; only one of the three longtables has anyone sitting. Three men eat and drink between the fireplace and the large front window - a reedish man with a forked yellow-dyed beard common in Pentos across the Narrow Sea, a bronze-skinned giant Dothraki that causes the bells tied in his hair to tinkle with each vicious bite of food, and an ugly but stout Westerosi man with a plain longsword and shield leaning against the bench beside him. Only the Pentoshi looks up at your entrance, obviously eying up your worth.

"Plenty of room, m'lords," says a young wisp of a girl. "My father's out back tapping a new keg, but he'll be back soon. Meals are only a few pennies a plate, twelve rooms are a stag each; the six with windows are two." She shakes her head as if remembering. "Oh, but the Pentoshi and his sellswords have two of those, so there are only four rooms with windows free."


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## jackslate45 (Jul 23, 2011)

Robin wanted to stay quiet, knowing that he should wait for his lord to speak to the inn keeper.  He nodded politely to the Pentoshi, and walked over to Maester Karlon and whispers "Everything alright?"


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## ShaggySpellsword (Jul 24, 2011)

Pate goes to an empty chair, pulls it over to a corner, leans his pole-arm into the corner, and settles in.  He watches the room with heavily lidded eyes, exhausted after a long day's ride, waiting for Ser Laton to work out sleep and food details.


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## DrZombie (Jul 24, 2011)

"We'll have a windowless room for the injured couple, two for the guards and such, and a windowed room for Ser Jarl and I. And food for evryone in our party, offcourse." Ser Laton says after a short hesitation.


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## Captain Impossible (Jul 24, 2011)

Ser Jarl wiggled his toes in his boots to fight off the cold. It was a bit of disappointment for him that it was not warmer inside the inn. Still, it was better than staying outside, where the wind would drive the chill into his bones. As he stands there with the others, he looks over the warriors at the longtable. They boded ill in Jarl's mind, as he presumed that such an exotic array of sellswords wouldn't travel to the Vale without a definite purpose.

"Haken," Ser Jarl whispers to the man-at-arms. "We should make sure we have two-man shifts guarding our carriage and horses, just in case." He took a seat at the end of an unoccupied table, so he could get up or draw his sword if need be.


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## Cor Azer (Jul 25, 2011)

Maester Karlon busies himself with a damp cloth on the brow of Lady Palla Lynderly, gently trying to soothe her tormented dreams. "She is waking, of a sort, young one," he says over his shoulder, trying not to stare as Jace rewraps the cloth tightly around her breasts. "Soon. Perhaps a bit longer. It seems more sleep now than unconsciousness."

"Thank you, maester." Formal, polite, but Karlon hears the layers of emotion in her tone. _She does not trust me_, he thinks. _I doubt she trusts anyone. Not with her lady._

"If she will not wake for a bit, I will speak with your lord."

"My lord is far from here, young one," he replies. "I travel here with Ser Gough at my lord's behest. But I would not counsel you to speak with him; Ser Laton and Ser Jarl of House Vantri saved you and your lady." _No need to put her anywhere near Ser Gough needlessly._

Jace nods, pulls on her tunic, and then pins her cloak about her neck with a twined snake brooch.

Just after the girl leaves, Maester Karlon hears her talking briefly with someone outside his cart.

Then a knock.

"Maester?" Karlon looks up, and recognizes the Vantri sarjeant, Haken Stone.

"Yes?"

"Ser Laton wanted me to let you know that he secured a room for the pregnant lady and her... uh... squire."

"Jace just left to speak with him." Karlon takes the damp cloth from the lady's brow and wrings it out into a bowl.

"Yes, I spoke with... uh... the boy. Sent... him... on his way."

"Lady Palla will not be able to walk for some time. Even if she wakes soon, I'd advise her to rest. Do you think perhaps you might find one or more of your men to help me move her into the inn?" Karlon changes the subject from Jace; the guard is obviously uncomfortable with carrying on the young girl's ruse, and the maester figures he'd best help the guard not overthink it.

"Certainly, maester. I'll be back with a few."

While waiting for the guards' return, Karlon begins looking through his supplies. _I'll need Dawlyn's help to keep Ser Gough busy tonight. It'll do no good to have Ser poking around the inn._

"Everything alright?" Another visitor to his cart. The steward, Karlon recalls.

"Yes, Robin. The lady sleeps, but will recover soon I think. And the squire Jace just went off to speak to your Ser." Karlon pauses for a moment in thought, and then fetches a small pinchpouch from one of the many hidden pockets in his robe. "I wonder, steward, if in fact you might do me a favor. I dare not leave the lady until I know she has fully recovered, so I was wondering if you might give this to the Lady Dawlyn for me. It's an... herb... that she likes to take with her meal. An... ahem... aphrodisiac." He whispers the last word, slightly embarrassed. "Without Ser Gough's knowledge., if at all possible."

***

_Heavy feet,_ Jacelynn thinks as she steps onto the floor of the inn. _Men, even boys, have heavier steps than me._ She scans the room, noting the innkeep behind his desk, the wench serving drinks, several House Vantri guards in one corner. _Is that one really sleeping?_ A fat knight and two ladies sit closer on a bench, apparently deep into a take from the knight. Sellswords in another corner. _No, not all sellswords. Damn, not them._ Jacelynn swore to the Seven beneath her breath. _The two knights must be Ser Laton and Ser Jarl._

Jacelynn takes a deep breath, and plods across the common room to the two knights. _Heavy feet._ "Ser Laton Vantri? I am Jace Weatherley, protector of the Lady Palla Lynderly. I must thank you for you aid out on the road. Our horse slipped in the mud -"

"Squire Weatherley!" shouts the Pentoshi from across the room. "I know you, I do! It is I, Raquinno Teaira. Pray tell me, has your lady come searching for me? I still have my spices for sale. Always for sale, they are."

"Forgive me Ser Laton." She looks up from the two knights to address the Pentoshi merchant. "No, Raquinno. My Lady Palla has no interest in your wares... " Jacelynn glares at him, hoping he would finally take the hint. "Spice or otherwise."

"I understand," says Raquinno politely, smiling. _Gods,_ thought Jacelynn. _Why does he always smile?_


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## DrZombie (Jul 25, 2011)

"Good evening squire. Might I present my uncle, Ser Jarl Vantri?" Laton says, ignoring the interruption by the merchant.
"I have secured a room for you and your mistress. My men will stand guard in the hallway, and will protect your door as well, squire." Laton says.
"I hope she gets well soon. It must be dire straits indeed, for a lady to travel accompanied only by a squire in these lands. It is my duty to offer you protection as long as our paths go in the same direction."
"Sit, eat, and have something to drink. You have been through a lot. We will talk later, in our room, or in yours should your lady have awoken by then."


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## Cor Azer (Jul 27, 2011)

_He knows!_ thinks Jacelynn, a slight panic flashing across her face. _He's not exposing me though. That's good... I can work this out._

"Thank you Ser Laton, for the offer, but I must attend to the Lady Palla. The maester was unsure when she'd wake." Jacelynn flexes her knees to curtsy but catches herself, grimaces slightly, and bows her head instead. "Ser Jarl, my honor to meet you, however briefly."

_Maiden help me! Squires don't curtsy! Think girl!_

Jacelynn turns and begins walking towards the door when it opens. Haken holds the door open for Adham, one of the strongest House Vantri guards, who cradles the still unconscious Palla in his arms. Behind the guard, Maester Karlon walks, repeatedly folding and unfolding a wet cloth.

"This way, Adham. Ser Laton got the lady a room over here."

Jacelynn hurries over to Palla's side. "Is she well?" She barely tosses a glance at the maester as she asks.

"Well enough to move, but still resting.  A good night's sleep should do wonders for her recovery."

"Thank you Maester." Jacelynn bites her lip as she watches the hefty guard carry the pregnant woman, timidly stretching out her hand to help support Palla's weight. She tosses a side glance at the merchant, but although Raquinno eyes Palla, he says nothing.

A loud harumph cuts into the air. See Gough looks over at Jacelynn, although he clearly is admiring Palla. "Pray tell, squire. Where is the Lady's husband? She has the look of a Lynderly, yet I've not heard of any of Lord Wyman's girls being married." His voices trails off, a lecherous hunger apparent.

_May the Stranger take you you fat - _ "That is none of your concern, Ser."

"On the contrary, boy." Contempt and anger can be heard in the knight's voice. "It is my maester who cares for her. I have every right to know where her lord husband is so I can ensure she is returned safely to him." Ser Gough's voice softens only slightly, but a wolfish grin creeps in. "Unless... Unless she has no husband? Is that it, boy? Does your wench of a lady carry a bastard in her belly?"

_Oh Gods, don't cry. Squires don't cry,_ thinks Jacelynn. _Seven help me, don't let me cry..._


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## jackslate45 (Jul 27, 2011)

Robin followed the Maester, Haken, and Adham into the room trying to keep his face as serious as possible.  He overhears what Ser Gough was asking, and decided to re-prioritize.  He approaches the group and says "Ser Gough, please try to calm down.  I am sure the squire is just exhausted from the harrowing day he and his lady experienced.  His only concern is that of his lady safety, which is commendable.  He should go with and be with his lady now, as is required of him." Robin stares intently at Jace, hoping that (s)he would get the hint.  

"As for you Ser's, I am certian as well that after a long day, food and drink are the top choice for today.  Please, sit and relax, and I will personally make sure that the kitchens are working at full capacity. " Robin smiles and nods towards the counter, where most of the guard of House Vantri have already started to eat.


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## ShaggySpellsword (Jul 27, 2011)

Pate perks up when the food starts coming in and manages to get one of the first plates offered.  He chokes a bit when Gough openly accuses the lady of carrying a bastard and begins gulping his food down pretty quickly.

After Robin gives Jace a good excuse to retire from the common room, Pate washes the last of his food down with the last of his ale and stands, walking over to the squire, taking him by one shoulder.  

"Come along young squire.  Me an' Adham will make sure you and the lady aren't disturbed tonight.  Let the knights sort out the arrangements of the maester and such." 

Pate bows his head to the knights in the common room and ushers the squire after Adham and Lady Palla.


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## Captain Impossible (Jul 28, 2011)

Jarl nods the the young squire as she gives her leave. He felt much more comfortable as he began to warm up slightly. The exertion of the day, ignored on the road, had begun to to take its belated effect upon him. It takes the sound of the door opening to snap him out of it. 

As Ser Gough makes his insinuations, Ser Jarl slowly stands from table. His hand rests on his sword at his hip. Before he can do anything impulsive, Robin intercedes, breaking the tension in the room. As Pate helps Adham with the invalid lady, Jarl sits down, his hand still on his sword. "I hope the food arrives soon," Jarl grumbles under his breath.


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## DrZombie (Jul 29, 2011)

Laton hooks his mace back on his belt, his movement hidden by the table. He stands up, nods at his uncle and follows the guard up to the rooms.

"Pate, It might be best if you keep an eye out tonight. Wake me and my uncle if there's any trouble."

"Young squire, it might be best if we talk sooner rather than later."


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## Cor Azer (Jul 29, 2011)

Jacelynn takes a seat in a stool next to Palla, gently fixing the blanket covering her as Adham finishes laying her in the bed. She nods appreciatively to the guard.

"Come one, Adham," says Haken. "We should leave them to their counsel." Haken bows slightly to Ser Laton, and exits behind Adham, but pauses for a second. "We'll do our best to keep Ser Gough downstairs. No eavesdroppers needed."

Jacelynn pays no attention to the conversation at the door, instead watching Maester Karlon as he fusses about Palla's forehead. Finally, the maester seems satisfied that Palla is comfortable, then smiles wistfully at the girl in the squire's clothes. "The Lady Palla will be fine. She needs rest, but I don't think there's any lasting injury." He tucks his hands into the folds of his robes as he passes Ser Laton. "Try not to stay in here too long. The lady does need her sleep." As the maester peers back at Jacelynn, he adds, "Her as well, I would suspect. Ser Gough won't like it, but I'll be available should you need me during the night."

After the door closes, silence descends upon the room.

_How much do I tell him?_ Jacelynn turns her head slightly, trying to judge the trustworthiness of this knight.

"It's not a bastard," she says. A heavy sob is barely held back. "Not truly. Lady Palla wed my brother. There was a kindly septon in the village who did it for a few gold dragons. Kept it secret, because Palla's family wanted her to marry up, not some landed knight." Tears well in the corners of Jacelynn's eyes. "Ondrew... Ondrew died. Bandits. Clansmen. Something. Palla was riding out to meet him, but he wouldn't be there. I... I had to go. Ondrew told me everything, and I... I had to watch over his child. I had to watch out for Palla."

Jacelynn pauses, looking down at the squire's livery she wears. She pays particular attention to the House Weatherley badge on her left breast. "I know a bit about horses, and I watched Ondrew practice his sword, although it was too heavy for me, so I just took one of the shorter ones. I figured... I hoped... that being dressed as a squire - a boy - would keep people from bothering us. Mind their own business. Safer than two women on the road."

"I... I don't think Palla knows. About me. I don't think." Jacelynn looks at the sleeping woman beside her. "Sometimes I think she looks at me a bit funny, but she hasn't said anything. I told her I was Jace Weatherly - Ondrew's cousin. She knows about Ondrew's... about his death. She cried. I couldn't... not with her." Her cheeks glisten with moist tears. "I already cried. But with her, I wanted to cry again. But I couldn't. Boys don't cry. Do they, Ser?"

She sobs softly, barely paying attention to Ser Laton.

"I'm sorry, Ser. I shouldn't be dumping this all on you. You rescued us in the hills, and now I'm telling all my secrets... and I... I don't know what to do."

"It's too much," Jacelynn says, as she drops her head down to rest in the cradle of her arms on the bed. "It's too much Ser. Palla didn't know what to do. We just started riding. Couldn't go back home, she said. We met Raquinno on the road. He said he'd comfort Palla, but we knew what he meant. I think that Agorn one likes little boys - he was looking at me... wrong. The Dothraki never spoke. Merrillio, he... he was nice. Chivalrous, like in the stories of brave knights. Told the other ones to leave us alone. I don't know why he's with them."

"And then the rain, and we got lost." She sobs softly. "And then I woke in the maester's cart, and he knows about me. And he serves that... that... fat knight. I don't want him to know about me. Mother help me - there's something cruel in that... man." Jacelynn tries to pause in her sobbing rambling, and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry Ser. I'm sorry to throw all my problems at you. It's not your concern; you've already done so much for us. Thank you. Thank you for saving us. I hate to think what may have happened if someone else had found us on that road."


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## ShaggySpellsword (Jul 29, 2011)

Pate listens to the whole spiel from Jace, barely able to follow what it is she is saying.

_He's...a girl?  Some knight's sister.  The lady was married to his--no her--knight.  Her brother._

Pate squints hard with the stress of working all of that out.  Rather than even make an attempt to follow this baffling conversation, he says to Ser Laton,
"Ser, I'll just take this chair out to the hall and watch tonight from there, and, um, let the two of you have your talk for now.  I'll come get you and Ser Jarl should there be problems.  I'm sure Haken will set guards on the wagons.  By your leave."

He nods his head in a small bow and grabs the chair by the door, ready to slip out as soon as Ser Laton gives his permission.


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## DrZombie (Jul 30, 2011)

"Yes, yes" Laton waves distractedly at Pate. "Go ahead."
_Oh Bugger. What a mess did I get myself involved in?_
"Is there room at your keep for Palla and her child? How would your parents receive her?"


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## Cor Azer (Aug 2, 2011)

The sobbing slowly eases as Jacelynn slumps in her chair, nearly exhausted from pouring out her thoughts and fears. "My... my parents are dead. Ondrew was the knight of the keep, but my uncle Slynn was castellan. We're just a family of landed knights and Ondrew spent so much time at Sunkenwood serving Lord Lynderly that I don't think he realized what my uncle was doing. Nobody really cares about a lesser house like Weatherley so long as their tithes are paid and knees are bent."

Suddenly realizing that Ser Laton asked her question, she looks up wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry for crying, Ser. I am. But no, I don't think Lady Palla would be safe at Squallfield. My uncle is probably rejoicing that I'm missing, if he cares at all. With my brother dead, the hall should go to me, but I've not the power to take it back from him." Jacelynn grimaces ruefully. "Inheritance means little without swords to enforce it, and the swords of Squallfield are more loyal to my uncle than to some wisp of a girl who pretends she's a squire," she says, gesturing weakly at her livery.

"Through All Weather," Jacelynn states to noone in particular. "Our words. When Ser Hace was first granted his name and lands, he took those words to honor the difficulty he had in leading Lord Lynderly's reserves across the Snakewood to help against some invading clansmen. It tells us that we'll fight through anything." She pauses to look at the weathervane, sun and moon of the House Weatherley badge. "It doesn't tell us where to get the swords we need to do it."

"Forgive me, Ser, but I am tired after such a long day, and I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate what you've done for Lady Palla and I. Our lives are truly in your debt. But I do need rest." Jacelynn rises from her stool and faces Ser Laton, curtsying with the hem of her livery. "Pray accept my apologies for my rudeness at dumping all of this upon you and asking you to leave. I hope that Lady Palla is feeling more rested in the morning. I'm sure she would like to tha - "

A strangled yell of pain echoes from outside the inn, faintly heard in the windowless room, but reverberating strongly in other rooms. Instinctively Jacelynn drops her hand to the hilt of the sword at her hip, but her cheeks flush red with embarrassment at the though of standing should to shoulder with true knights.

Shouts from down in the common room echoes up the hall to the rooms.

"What was that?"

"Out in the barn!"

"Is someone hurt?"

"Who's out there?"

"Ser Rolston's squire."

"Is it clansmen?"

"The stableboy."

"I don't see anything."

"Haken set Talmond and a few guards to - "

"Where'd that sellsword get to?"

A loud clatter signals a few overturned benches as men in the common room spring to their feet.

"My mutton!"

A Pentoshi accent shouts something in Dothraki, then continues in Braavosi, "You stay here to Merrillio. Whatever Agorn did, his fate is his own."


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 2, 2011)

Ser Jarl took a bite out of his mutton. It was wonderful and salty, but  he couldn't shake the uneasiness he felt. Pregnant ladies, girl squires,  foreign mercenaries, and a lecherous knight with his ... women. He  couldn't let his guard down, so he couldn't have more than the one ale,  at least until the others seemed settled.

Jarl's introspection  was cut short by a pained yell coming from the outside. Quickly, Jarl  reached for his shield and his sword. He tried to remember who was out  there. Which of his men? Ser Rollston? Someone else? The room erupted as  men stood up and drew their weapons.

"Haken set Talmond and a  few guards to watch upstairs. Bring Laton and Pate down here. He won't  get much use out of his halberd in the hallway."

Jarl waited at the doorway, ready to strike if a clansman came through.

"Ser Gough, you're not going to be much help sitting."


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## jackslate45 (Aug 3, 2011)

Robin heard the yelling from the kitchen, which he emerged from before finishing his conversation with the cook.  He was greeted by the sound of sword and feet clattering.  He was surprised by what the Pentoshi man said, but decided for now to remain in the Common tongue.  If this Agorn did turn up, he would be wise to stay here.  "Indeed, good Sers.  I will ask the inn keeper to prepare anything for you once you return."  He then goes back to inform the inn keeper.


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## DrZombie (Aug 3, 2011)

"Go to your room, stay there. The guards will protect you." Laton says calmly. He grabs his mace and shield, and pauzes. "We will sort out your problems, squire. But first we'll see what this is about. We 'll talk in the morning."

Ser Laton makes his way downstairs. Unles there are sounds of a battle with multiple combatants outside he'll stay inside to keep an eye on the traders and to see that noone sneaks upstairs.


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## ShaggySpellsword (Aug 3, 2011)

As soon as the ruckus breaks out, Pate moves to stand directly in front of the door, with his weapon in hand.  He lets Laton through.

A few moments later, Talmond and Adham come upstairs.

"Ser Jarl requested you downstairs.  We'll take over here."

Pate nods to them both and heads down to the common room to find weapons drawn and most of the people looking suspiciously at each other, waiting for something to happen.  He starts toward the door.

"Ser Jarl?  You want me to see what's happened out there?"


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## Cor Azer (Aug 3, 2011)

Ollin Erenger stumbles out of the barn, his swollen left eye making it difficult to focus on the path before him. _'I'm no Ser.'_ The ugly sellsword's words echo mockingly as Ollin reaches for a wall to brace himself but misses, crashing hard on one knee. He curses loudly.

The ring of steel on steel reverberates behind him. _Thank the Warrior that Ser Rolston showed up._

Still disoriented, Ollin retches as the image of the stableboy's face creeps into his thoughts. _Damn that was fast. The sellsword was barely in there a minute before he started attacking that poor stableboy. What set him off?_ He feels the warmth coming off the blackening bruise around his eye with the back of his hand. _Must get help._ His voice cracks though as he tries to call out towards the inn, and only a raspy croak issues forth.

More steel and steel behind him. Footwork too.

_That's more movement than Ser does._ Ollin shakes his head to try to focus. _Seven hells, that sellsword is fast. And Ser without his mail._

One step. Two. Down to one knee. _Help._ "help..."

_'I'm no Ser.'_ Mocking.

Ollin lurches forward. His vision is blurred, but logic tells him to move towards the largest blob. _Has to be the inn._ "help..." Another faint croak, but louder than before, and Ollin takes some strength from that.

_I just tried to save the stableboy. 'Ser, what are you doing?'_

_'I'm no Ser.'_ Mocking.

Steel on steel, and then again, harder and faster. Then a crack. A hard thud. Horses whinny and stomp, pulling at their ties.

"help..." Stronger. "Help."

Ollin hears a distinct footstep behind him.

"Ser?" he asks, unable to focus, but hoping.

"I'm no Ser."

[sblock]Ollin and Agorn are clearly visible from any window in the inn's common room. Ollin is on the ground about 40ft from the front door, Agorn is another 20ft beyond that, carrying a bloody bastard sword in one hand.

While combat is a distinct possibility here, there is enough of a lull that some form of talking is an option too.

Should you wish to go to combat, I'll need Agility - Quickness tests from everyone to determine initiative (highest goes first). To test Agility - Quickness, you need to roll a d6 for each rank in the ability plus 1d6 for each bonus die in Quickness, then adding the highest X rolls together (where X is your rank in Agility). So a character with Agility 3; Quickness 2B would roll 5d6, but only count the highest 3. Having checked your characters, none of you have bonus die in Quickness, so, for most of you, it'll just be 3d6 (Robin only gets 2d6). Note that when using the ENWorld Die Roller, there's a checkbox to discard the lowest _blank_ rolls - you'll want to discard the lowest Y rolls, where Y is the number of bonus dice you rolled.

Alternatively, one of you can choose to go last in the round and make a Challenging (total result of 9 or higher) Warfare - Tactics test to give everyone else +1 bonus die on their Agility - Quickness tests for each success (1 success at 9, 2 successes at 14, 3 at 19, to a max of 4 at 24). Again, bonus die let you roll more dice, but you still only pick the highest X rolls.

If you want to talk this out, we'll be headed into an intrigue encounter, so you'll need to let me know a brief idea of your objective in the encounter, and then we'll figure out dispositions, techniques, and initiative from there.

And if all of that is too confusing, just let me know and I'll try to clarify.[/sblock]


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 4, 2011)

Ser Jarl was shocked at what he saw. There was too much blood on the sword to come from just the squire. What the knight read of the sellsword's face was not mercy.

"Pate!" Ser Jarl barked as he ran outside. He drew his bastard sword as he ran for the squire, hoping to reach him before the other.

"Drop your sword! Stay there and drop your sword or I'll cut you down, damn you!"


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## jackslate45 (Aug 4, 2011)

Robin ran out the door, and saw the sight.  He shuddered a little bit, and stepped aside as to allow the others to pass.


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## ShaggySpellsword (Aug 4, 2011)

Pate runs towards the squire, in a full sprint, interposing himself between the man with the bloody sword and the boy on the ground.

"Get back to the inn boy.  Ser Jarl's handeling this."

[sblock] I will full out sprint to get just in front of the boy.  I am unsure weather this is intrigue or combat right now, so I will roll my combat quickness in case it is-edit, wow! Pate will hopefully be going pretty close to the top of the round, so my heroic interposition will still stand.

Note: The 15 should be a 13.  I forgot to subtract my Ring Armor penalty.[/sblock]


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## Cor Azer (Aug 5, 2011)

[sblock="Intrigue: Ser Jarl's attempt to cow Agorn"]
By default, the game assumes characters have a disposition of Indifferent (Damage Reduction of 4, no modifier for Deception or Persuasion tests), so I'll assume that's Ser Jarl's disposition versus Agorn (you can choose to make it better or worse by one step during each exchange of the intrigue if you want). If you don't have the rules, there's a brief rundown of dispositions in the first post in the character sheet thread.

Ser Jarl's Intimidate test beats Agorn's intrigue defense by 5, yielding 2 successes and dealing 8 influence damage (reduced by 4 for Agorn's disposition). Agorn has 8 composure remaining.

In return, Agorn attempts to bully Ser Jarl, rolling 13, which beats Ser Jarl's defense by 3 for 1 success and dealing 4 influence damage (which is reduced to 0 due to Ser Jarl's indifferent disposition). Ser Jarl's composure is not reduced.

On to the next exchange!

Note 1. Agorn has 2 injuries from his battle with Ser Rolston, giving him -2 to all his tests.
Note 2. Everyone else can join into the intrigue too if they want. Just because the first attempt was an Intimidate, it doesn't mean that the rest must be so (although they certainly may be if you choose).
[/sblock]

Ollin hears noise all about him, but his blurred vision makes it difficult to tell exactly what's happening. _Someone is helping! Thank the Seven!_

Few of the words are directed at him, but he makes out part of one sentence. "...to the inn, boy. Ser..." he sees a large man standing protectively over him, and nods. He rolls to his knees, nervous for exposing his back to the sellsword, but thankful for the guard's protection. He stumbles to his feet and staggers back, noting all the help that has poured out of the inn.

One knight in particular is demanding the sellsword stand down. _Ser Jarl,_ thinks Ollin. _I met him at the crossroads._

The squire turns, off-balanced but standing, and sees Agorn consider the knight's words for a moment, but then the ugly man spits and sneers.

"This is none of your concern. The boy and his knight interfered in my affairs, and I'll have his hand for that. Possibly a head." He glares intently at Ser Jarl. "I've already killed one knight today. Another will not bother me."


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## ShaggySpellsword (Aug 5, 2011)

Pate, catching his breath from his run, responds to the knight, “That’s fair.  I imagine none of these knights would be too upset if I brought them your head.  Take another step and I imagine they’ll get it.”

He brings his glaive to bear, swinging at the air, as if to take off a head.

[sblock]Time for some intimidation! I think, at this point, I at least dislike him, so that's my disposition.  Our goal is to get Agorn to give up.  And it's a 2.  Boo.  Not likely to be effective.[/sblock]


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## jackslate45 (Aug 5, 2011)

Robin, knowing that Ser Jarl and Pate might actually fight this one out, tries using words to do so.

"Please, there is no need for violence.  Just explain your story, and I am sure that we can reach a peaceful solution."

OCC: Same question as ShaggySpellsword, trying to Convince: Influence: 3; Persuasion Test: 4D + 1B; Deception Test: 3D + 1B.  I am guessing this is a Persuasion Test, as I am trying to get him to give up.


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## Cor Azer (Aug 6, 2011)

[sblock=OOC] Generally speaking, if the words you're speaking don't fully match your intention, you use Deception, otherwise it's Persuasion.The intention itself doesn't matter, only whether it matches your words.

So, for example, a pacifist saying, "Stand down or I hurt you." - Deception. A king saying "Confess and I'll let you join the Night's Watch" but then offing your head - Deception. A lord saying, "Surrender and I'll try to help you" - Persuasion, unless he actually has no such intention. Vague, yes, but I'm not sure if I can make an easier line to distinguish them.

In both your cases, unless you're deliberately lying, your attempts sound more like Persuasion - Intimidate and Persuasion - Convince, possibly Bargain.
[/sblock]


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## Cor Azer (Aug 6, 2011)

_Ser Rolston,_ thinks Ollin. _He killed Ser Rolston._

"You talk an awful lot for a guard," says Agorn, dismissing Pate's threat. "Takes more than a sharp stick swinging to cow a real man."

The sellsword stops to listen to Robin's earnest words, however.

"A peaceful solution?" snorts Agorn. "You know what I did. You think I'll get a fair trial from these 'brave knights'?" Slowly he turns his gaze from Robin, to Pate, to Ser Jarl, and finally to the squire Ollin. He smiles ruefully, and tosses his bloody sword to the side. "Why not? I throw myself at your tender mercies!" he pleads, the sarcasm dripping like the blood from his sword.

[sblock=OOC] Pate's Persuasion attempt didn't beat Agorn's intrigue defense, but Robin's beat it by 15, yielding 4 successes and 12 damage, reduced to 8 by Agorn's disposition, which is still enough to defeat him.[/sblock]


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 6, 2011)

Ser Jarl approached Agorn slowly. Once he was close enough, he slides the bloody bastard sword away from the prisoner. "Robin, bind him. Pate, fell free to skewer this sellsword if he tries anyhting. I'm heading to the stable," Jarl said as he sheathed his sword.

Ser Jarl ran to the stable, looking for the stable boy and Ser Rolston, and hoping there was that the sellsword's claim to having killed a knight was a lie or a mistake.


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## jackslate45 (Aug 7, 2011)

Robin nodded to Ser Jarl, and ran over to Agorn.  He took off his clocks strap, removed the string from it, and says to Agorn "Thank you.  Violence can only lead to more violence.  However, I must bind your hands for now."


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## Cor Azer (Aug 7, 2011)

Haken rushes across the inn's courtyard to join Ser Jarl in the barn. He sets one guard to helping the injured squire, and another to join Pate watching the sellsword while Robin binds his hands.

The sellsword smiles disgustingly, as if he's about to share a sick joke. He sneers at Robin's thanks. "Save your thanks for those who want them. I do what I do for my own reasons." When Robin finishes, Agorn stretches against the ropes, obviously testing them. "You might want these tighter. Wouldn't take much to free me." He splays his fingers wide, and flexes the tips. "Of course, most necks are only about this big," he says, almost cheerily.

In the barn, Haken immediately sees the body of the stableboy, laid out flat in one of the stalls. The right side of the poor boy's face is caved in, with blood splattered across the floor and wall of the stall, and even its equine inhabitant, shying away in the back corner.

He looks around, choosing not to linger too long on the dead body, and sees Ser Jarl moving to another stall. Faint wet gurgles can be heard from within. A bloody sword and rent shield lie nearby, and blood can be seen everywhere. In the stall, Ser Rolston slumps against the back wall, both hands clutching feebly at his neck, trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood.


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 9, 2011)

Ser Jarl ran over to the injured knight. He immediately tore his sleeve and began trying to stop the bleeding. "Haken! Get the Maester!," he shouted. "Hold on, Ser Rolston. I've seen men walk away from worse."


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## jackslate45 (Aug 10, 2011)

Robin blushed a little and said "Ya, um, I, uh...I am not used to tying people up.  However, thanks for the advice."

He tries to tighten the hopes down, hoping that this time they wont be as loose before.


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## Cor Azer (Aug 10, 2011)

The sound gurgling from Ser Rolston's lips resembles an attempt at speech, but is completely unintelligible. His bloodied hands slip from his neck as Ser Jarl works from a better angle, but the bleeding knight's eyes stare pleading.

Stunned for only a moment, Haken shakes himself from his reverie at Ser Jarl's command. "Maester! Right." He stumbles back, shouting out towards the inn. "Maester! We need the maester!"

A strange wash of relief and worry rolls over the squire's face. "Ser Rolston?" he asks, hoping for some word of his knight.

"Alive, but dangerously wounded I'm afraid." Haken pauses to face the inn again. "Bring out the maester!"

As Maester Karlon finally exits the inn and hurries across the inn's courtyard, Haken jogs along beside him, leading to the barn. As he passes the bound Agorn, he states nigh-breathless, "Your foe is not dead yet, sellsword."

Inside the barn, Karlon gently presses a bandage in to replace Ser Jarl's hands on Ser Rolston's neck, but blood continues to pour out from the grizzly wound. Long minutes pass as Karlon replaces bandage after blood-soaked bandage, cursing the bad conditions of the barn, but trying his best to staunch the blood flow.

Occasionally, Ser Rolston attempts to speak, but nothing but wet croaks emerge. Maester Karlon gently admonishes him, "Save your strength, Ser. You're prevailing in this fight, but it will be tough before the end." His thin smile offers a faint hope, as he swaps in another clean bandage, discarding one slightly less bloody than all the previous ones.

Outside, Agorn continues to smile, as if he knew a joke none of the others present were privy too. When he catches Robin's eyes for a moment, his smile grows. "Never said that was the knight I killed."


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 11, 2011)

Jarl watches the maester work on the injured knight. There was little he could do in the stable. "I'll get more clean bandages. And perhaps someone to help move him, if you think it's a good idea."

Ser Jarl ran back to the inn. As he passed the sellsword he said, "Keep your halberd on this hooligan, Pate."

Walking through the inn door, covered in blood, he shouted for the girl who had greeted them. "Girl! I need clean cloth.  I don't care if you have to cut the sheets into strips!" Ser Jarl spun around. "Laton! Help me take this outside!"


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 11, 2011)

Mhyrko was sad the rain had ended.  He loved the rain.  His Hounds Jenny and Bev did too.  His feathered friend ...not so much.  Time to get to the inn to rendezvous with the family.  Tourneys were a good way for the family to help the house prosper and so he would do his part.  Anything for the family.
Approaching the inn, there seemed to be some activity outside so he approached cautiously.  With woodsmans axe in hand, Mhyrko and the girls (his hounds) enter the area and size up the situation.  It looks like he should have skipped the raindance and made haste.  He sees Ser Jarl running into the inn covered in blood.  *Someone got a lesson* he thought and hearing Ser Jarls words to Pate regarding the sellsword Mhyrko waits for Pate or the others to see him.  No need to eat a halberd if he startled him.  But he keeps his eye on the man on the ground and wonders if he will try to escape.


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## jackslate45 (Aug 12, 2011)

Robin stared hard at the sellsword before saying "Then tell me.  Who exactly _were_ you killing?  Or better yet, who actually _tried _to kill the Ser?"


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## Cor Azer (Aug 12, 2011)

For the second time this evening, Haken and Adham find themselves carrying one of Maester Karlon's charges into the inn. Ser Rolston is ashen, and his black and grey surcoat is stained crimson with both wet and drying blood. The bandages fastened to his neck stem the flow, but a little trickles out even so. His breathing is raspy and wet.

"What has happened?" asks Raquinno. "Where is my man?"

Haken furrows his brow. "The sellsword smashed in the stableboy's head, blackened the squire's eye, and nearly killed the knight." His eyes narrow. "I wonder what he was being paid for?"

The Pentoshi bristles. "I resent that insinuation! I'm a simple spice merchant. My swords were hired to protect me in the wilds of The Vale." He spits on the ground. "You Westerosi savages! You claim to be so much better than us across the Narrow Sea, but no!" He waggled a finger at the guard. "No! You breed men such as the Agorn. He... He shows you as you truly are." Raquinno puffs his chest out pridefully. "Tell him, he has forfeited his pay. This was not part of his contract."

The merchant takes a few steps away from his bench and towards his room. "Merrillio. Phaqo. Follow." The trio retire from the common room, but while the Pentoshi and the Dothraki pointedly ignore any words or looks, just before exiting, the Braavosi bows apologetically, and sweeps out of the room.

"What do we do with the sellsword?" asks one of the guards.

Haken considers for a moment.

"Secure him in a room. No windows. Ser Laton or Ser Jarl may want to question him and we don't want a public spectacle."

As the sellsword is being led through the common room, quietly humming a tune to himself, the wounded squire follows a few paces behind. Ollin looks confused, shifting the gaze of his one good eye from Robin, the guards, Agorn, and back to Robin. "I don't understand. Why won't he answer you question, milord?"

The sellsword stops humming and smiles. "That stream back there, boy? That's the edge of these Vantri boys' land. This here inn is in Corbray lands, and from what I hear, Lord Lyonnel is not fond of other Houses plying justice on his lands." He licks his lips with a smug satisfaction. "So I really don't need to answer any of your questions."

Ser Gough stands, trying his best to sound formal and intimidating; a difficult feat with mutton juice staining his chin. "Then we send for the Lord! We shall have him try this foul miscreant we have caught!" He waves a sausagelike finger at the sellsword, "Your crimes against our fellow knight will not go unpunished!"

Agorn smiles, and returns to his humming.


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## ShaggySpellsword (Aug 12, 2011)

Pate sticks close to the sellsword, pushing him with the haft of his weapon if he is ever hesitant to move.

Pate looks to the innkeep.  "What room should I put this one in until Lord Lyonel gets here?  I don't imagine he needs the best room you have.  A closet, perhaps?"


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 12, 2011)

Mhyrko watches as Haken and Adham carry the wounded knight into the inn.  With a gesture his horse heads into the stable where it will remain until it is called.  As the others lead the sellsword into the inn Mhyrko follows them silently, first letting the hounds get the scent of the sellsword from where he was held and then signaling them to stand watch outside.  He follows the group into the inn and watches as the merchant exchanges words with Haken before he and his company head to their rooms.  "Ale" he says to the innkeeper.  "What has happened here" he asks, not to anyone in particular.


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 13, 2011)

Double post.


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 13, 2011)

Ser Jarl cleaned off the blood from his hands. He heard the Pentoshi argue with Haken, but kept his mouth shut, more out of exhaustion than anything else. After the foreigners left, he saw Agorn carried through. At the sellsword's mention of being on Corbray land, Jarl said "If you were found on the other side of the stream full of arrows, I don't think Lord Corbray would say much about it." Ser Jarl had no intention of actually doing it, but he figured it might keep the rogue from feeling so pleased with himself. It was dangerous to have him here. The merchant's other bodyguards might be compelled to try to help him. And his cryptic words could be more than an attempt to rattle the men. Robin and Laton would fish out the truth.

It was a welcome sight to see Mhyrko enter the inn. "Greetings, cousin. Where is the menagerie?" He waited for Mhyrko to get a seat before continuing. "On the road we came upon a lady and her squire, hurt from a riding accident. Things were settling down, and now the damned merchant's sellsword killed the stableboy, and attacked both Ser Rolston and his squire." Ser Jarl took a long sip of his ale. "Rotten business."


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 14, 2011)

Mhyrko points outside to where the menagerie is. "Watching" he answers, knowing that Ser Jarl already knew the routine. He sits with his ale and listens to the events that have come to pass. "Killing a stableboy? That is despicable. Attacking a Ser is criminal. I can ride to Lord Corbray if you wish or perhaps you will take this sellsword there instead? Of course there is the question of his companions and if any of them were part of it." Mhyrko drains his ale "tell me what you need of me, cousin".


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## jackslate45 (Aug 15, 2011)

Robin sighs.  While what the sellsword said was true, it meant that he was getting nothing out of him.  While Pate escorts the sellsword away, Robin goes over to Ser Jarl and the other man.  "He is not saying anything, and I doubt he will want to towards me.  I think you might have better luck Ser Jarl."


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 15, 2011)

"Hello Robin" said Mhyrko. "Your guest not so talkative? Maybe Pate will find something they can talk about." He looks back to Ser Jarl. "has word been sent to lord Corbray yet?"


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## Cor Azer (Aug 15, 2011)

After watching the merchant and his sellswords leave the room, and returning from securing Agorn in another room, Haken returns to find the master-of-hounds being brought up to date on the day's events. The sarjeant takes a moment to pat the squire Ollin on the shoulder. "Ser Rolston seems a tough one. He'll pull through. Go on in with the maester; I'm sure your knight could use the company."

With the squire gone, Haken nods in greeting once he catches Mhyrko's gaze.

"No riders have been sent to Lord Corbray yet," says Haken, answering the new arrival's question for Ser Jarl. "And Maester Karlon didn't bring any ravens with him." The veteran guard peers around the inn, judging its strength. "Heart's Home is another day or two along the river, and not really that far off our path, milords. I daresay the innkeeper hasn't got anyone to spare after the stableboy's death, and I wouldn't trust the Pentoshi with a message for Lord Corbray. That pretty much leaves us either sitting here guarding the prisoner, or taking him with us to the Corbray's." Haken furrows his brow as he glances around the room some more. _Defensible enough,_ he thinks, _At least, to contain the sellsword. Don't know how those other sellswords will react to their old comrade being held so close by._ He smiles ruefully, _Sellswords and bastards - who ever really trusts us?_

"Ser Laton, Ser Jarl," says Ser Gough, after clearing his throat. "Though it pains me to delay the trip to Lakelights, perhaps I may be the solution." Haken rolls his eyes at the humble bow of the rotund knight. "I could travel on to Heart's Home, and deliver the news onto Lord Lyonnel, while you and yours remain here, guarding the ne'er-do-well."

"Murderer," says Haken. "With due respect, Ser, let's not forget that this sellsword was no mere gambling cheat."

"Indeed, indeed," agrees Ser Gough. Although his words are apologetic, a seething anger can be read in his eyes for having to mollify a bastard.

"And what of the maester?" asks Ser Laton. "Ser Rolston and the lady are both under his care at the moment. Would you leave him behind?"

The stout knight mutters for a moment, as if speaking to his chin. "Well... I... Well... harumph... I... I would have to bring him with me. My brother would never forgive me for leaving such a valued servant of House Crelling behind." He gestures at Haken, hoping for an out. "But here, the sarjeant himself said that Ser Rolston will pull through. He just needs some bandages changes, I'm sure. Even Maester Karlon said earlier he should be fine." The knight points vaguely off towards the rooms. "And the pregnant lady just needs sleep. She has her squire to guard her, and really... it's just a bastard in her belly... not really that important..."

_You pompous idiot,_ thinks Haken. _I wonder if the Seven would hold me in judgment if I cut you down._

Ser Gough continues to babble, oblivious to Haken's rising ire and contempt. "Even given two days to ride to Heart's Home, and two days back - that still leaves enough time to just arrive at Lakelights and the tourney. Why, I'm sure Ser Terald would understand our tardiness and make suitable arrangements for us in the lists."

"You assume Lord Corbray would ride out here immediately, Ser Gough," says Haken, taking a small amount of pleasure in keeping the knight's thoughts on having a conversation with a mere bastard. "And that all this mess with the sellsword will be resolved quickly." He smirks, a friendly one to his lords, but cynically to Ser Gough. "Lords are not known for rushing through their duties."

Outside, Mhyrko's girls begin barking and braying. Shouts are heard, and a glance out the window shows four horses and three riders near the barn. A fourth person stands in the entryway of the barn, taking in the bloody scene within. The wind outside is faint, but a few gusts show enough strength to billow out the banner held by the smallest rider enough to note the three crows and hearts of House Corbray.

One rider, wearing a fine red and black surcoat, turns and trots his horse towards the inn. "I am Ser Patrek Ravensblood, sworn sword of Lord Lyonnel Corbray of Heart's Home. I demand an explanation."


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 16, 2011)

"I think that those of you who intend to enter the lists should be sure not to miss the opportunity. Perhaps at least some of us should get there in time to register our participants. Lord Corbray may wish those of us who bore witness to the murder and other crimes to remain longer than...."

Hearing the dogs sounding off, Mhyrko quickly rises to investigate, axe in hand. Seeing the banner of Lord Corbray, Mhyrko steps outside, looks to the girls and commands them to stop, then turns to Ser Patrek Ravensblood as he makes his announcement. He bows just enough to the knight and drops his axe at rest by his side. "Ser Patrik, I am Mhyrko Vantri, cousin to my lord Loughton Vantri. I believe Ser Jarl can give you your explaination.

*animal handling (charm)*


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 16, 2011)

"Sadly the stableboy was murdered by the merchants guard, but I can see to your horses if you wish."  Mhyrko steps down from the entrance and scratches the hounds around their ears, waiting to hear Ser patreks response.


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## Cor Azer (Aug 18, 2011)

Ser Patrek stares down at the House Vantri master-of-hounds, spending a few moments to study the man. _Seven hells, I just wanted to go to the tourney; then the raven from Sunkenwood and now this mess..._ The young knight sighs as he rubs his temples. _Damn this headache._

With a wince to push away the pain in his head, Ser Patrek dismounts and straightens his surcoat. He fixes his belt, and checks the stealing on the sword sheathed at his side. He forces a smile past his headache, slipping out a small apple from a saddlebag and feeding his mare.

After the horse takes a bite, he tosses the rest of the apple to his squire.

"No need, friend," he says as he nods to Mhyrko. "My squire Joff will tend to such matters." He nods back to his entourage, pointing to the far end of the barn. Immediately, his men set about their tasks like a well-oiled clock.

"A merchant's guard did this, you say?" he asks as he walks up to the master-of-hounds, gesturing for the man to head back into the inn. "Where are these two now?"

The knight frowns as he learns the broad strokes of the evening's events, and his displeasure at the unexplained actions is evident. He grimaces again, pressing at his temples. _Can't use any milk tonight, dammit. Need to stay sober._ He hisses with a sharp intake of air. _Seven hells. Maybe a small dose._

"Awful business this is, Sers," says Patrek as he greets Ser Laton, Ser Jarl, and Ser Gough. "I had not though to find such a scene. Wat tends to keep a pretty calm inn here; locals aren't too rowdy. If your men have the sellsword secured, Ser Laton, I thank you and ask they remain on guard for a while yet, until mine own can relieve them." He grits his teeth to fight back the ache in his head.

"I was actually here on a different errand though. We had a raven from Sunkenwood; seems Lord Lynderly's daughter Palla has gone missing. Rode off into the Snakewood a few days ago, and didn't tell anyone where or why."

He winces again, and turns to the innkeep. "Wat! Some water and a large mug please." Ser Patrek bows apologetically to the knights before him. "Your pardons, Sers. I must retire for the night. This Seven hells sent headache cries for some milk of the poppy."


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 19, 2011)

Mhyrko heads back inside with Ser Patrek. "Snakewood is a dangerous place, especially for a woman and doubly so for a lords daughter.  I hope she did not go alone."  His thoughts drift to the lady Ser Jarl mentioned and wonders...


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 19, 2011)

"The criminal is being guarded by one of our House's men. Ser Rolston is resting, and his squire is watching him. The Pentoshi and his other men are upstairs," Ser Jarl said to Ser Patrek. 

Ser Jarl thought the entire situation was rotten. Lord Corbray's men arriving with a mission to find the Lynderly daughter. If what he had heard was true, could these men be her executioners? Would her The child Palla was carrying could be an heir. As was Jacelynn. And the mercenary's cryptic message about Ser Rolston not being the knight he killed. Could it have been Ondrew whom the sellsword murdered? They were in the area. So much trouble, bottled up in one small inn. 

The important thing to do was try to keep everyone's mouth shut. Ser Patrek would hopefully be pliable for information after milk of the poppy. If he was passed out, all the better. Ser Gough needed to be occupied. And all of the sellsword and particularly the merchant would need watching. A web was being woven, and Ser Jarl knew he was out of his element.

"Laton," he whispered. "We need to keep Ser Gough away from Corbray's men. See if you can remind him of his female company."

"Mhyrko, let's pay a visit to our captive. Perhaps we can help Robin find some answers." Jarl hoped that between the three of them, they would get to the truth of it.


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 19, 2011)

Mhyrko nods in silent agreement to Ser Jarl and considered the sellsword.  They would need to find a way to get his answers to fall from his lips, but to start out the wrong way might only seal them.  One way or another, the sooner they finished the better.  
 But the matter of the lords daughter was what concerned him.  He would have to find out if the lady found on the road was the missing woman and more importantly would that create another problem to deal with.


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## Cor Azer (Aug 22, 2011)

Jacelynn presses her ear at the door, listening to the low hum of conversation in the inn's common room. _More arrivals._ She bites her lower lip as she turns away from the door. _Please, Maiden,_ she prays, _Watch over these two pious girls..._

Sluggish clomps sound in the hallway. Silent as silk, Jacelynn slips back to the door. She hears a mumbled greeting as someone passes by the guards outside her door, but whomever it is moves on without questioning. With fingers more accustomed to needlework, Jacelynn cracks the door open just enough to peep through, catching a glimpse of a crimson cloaked knight entering an adjacent room.

The maid eases the door closed with barely a whisper, and retreats to the chair by the sleeping Palla. She chews her lip some more, trying to recall her knowledge of all the knights in the area. _Who is the new player?_ she wonders. _We're in Corbray lands... does he have any crimson-cloaked knights?_

A low whump echoes through the wall, as if something heavy collapsed on a bed.

Jacelynn lifts her head, and leans towards the wall to listen. The sound is muffled, but the inn's walls are not meant for true privacy.

"...poppy... wake in morning...". A tired and pained voice. _Someone wounded?_

"...Patrek... watch... until then..." Stronger, but deferring. _A guard perhaps?_

_Ser Patrek!_ recalls Jacelynn. _Ravensblood... yes. Wears crimson with a displayed raven device. A cousin - probably distant - of Lord Corbray._ She thinks back to a tourney at Sunkenwood, and recalls a joust between her brother and Ser Patrek. Three tilts, and five lances splintered between them until Ser Patrek unseated her brother Ondrew. _Gracious and humble,_ she remembers of the rather handsome Ser Patrek. _Asked only a beer in friendship rather than ransoming back Ondrew's armor._ Jacelynn smiles at the memory - one of happier times with her brother, even in his defeat. Although she had never met him, there had even been some talk of wedding her to Ser Patrek, but he was a fair bit older than Jacelynn and there were plenty of other women more fit to be his wife.

Jacelynn idly lifts a finger to play with a curl of her hair, but that only shocks her back to her senses. Her hair is pulled back tightly, cropped into a crude pageboy cut, and nowhere near as long as when she last thought of Ser Patrek. _Why is he here?_ She sucks in a short sigh, regaining focus. _He's one of Lord Lyonnel's knights; of course he could be patrolling the Corbray lands. But why wouldn't he be headed down to that tourney in... Lakelights? Surely the Lord Corbray wouldn't keep one of his cousins from competing. No... Ser Patrek must be here on some sort of mission..._

More muffled greetings in the hall. _Guards, from the sound of things,_ thinks Jacelynn. _Perhaps more of Ser Patrek's retainers_

Carefully, and quietly, Jacelynn slips back over to the door, painfully aware of how easy it might be for someone attentive to hear through the inn walls. Her fingers gently ease open to door. As expected, two new guards stand by the room where the sellsword Agorn was taken earlier. Corbray men, by their badges.

"... Lynderly girl..."

Jacelynn's eyes widened, and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from slamming the door in fear. _The Corbray men were looking for Palla. That had to be it._ She peers around the room, searching for an escape, but none could be seen. Ser Laton had given them a nice and private room without windows. _A prison,_ she thinks. Her heartbeat quickens as her fear rises, but she again bites her lip, willing and fighting to remain calm. _No. No... Ser Laton helped us._ she forces herself to remember. _He knows my secret and kept quiet. He knows about Palla, but has apparently not told Ser Patrek._ She begins to sigh in relief. _Yet, anyways. What's the honour of a knight compared to a lady's virtue?_

Three more sets of footsteps echo in the hallway, and Jacelynn easily hears her guards greet them.

"Ser Jarl."

"Mhyrko."

"Robin."

She hears some muffled discussion, and then it sounds like the three enter another room. Years of surreptitiously listening to castle gossip has trained Jacelynn's ears, and although she sees nothing, she's certain it's the sellsword's room that is entered.

"Welcome. Welcome to my castle." Even through the walls, every word of the sellsword is audible, dripping with sarcasm. Jacelynn shuddered, recalling his toothy grin. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"


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## ShaggySpellsword (Aug 23, 2011)

When the three men arrive at the room Pate deposited Agorn none too gently in, he greet te three of them with a nod of his head.

"m'lord, do you want me to stay with the prisoner, or should I go back out on watch at the lady's room? Or maybe I should go out to the stables and see if I can find the other knight the sellsword tried to kill?


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## Cor Azer (Aug 26, 2011)

Haken surveys the common room, and rubs his hand across his forehead, hoping it might wipe away the fatigue, excitement, and tension of the day. It does not.

Ser Laton sits on a neighboring bench, engaging Ser Gough in a conversation to keep the portly knight from talking to Ser Patrek about the lady and squire found on the road earlier. Ser Gough's lady and her handmaiden sit demurely to the side, quietly sipping what passes for wine in the inn. _Braver man than me._

As he watches Ser Jarl, Mhyrko, and Robin head off towards the room holding the murderous sellsword, the sarjeant feels a faint grumble in his belly. _Never did get that meal earlier._

"Innkeep! Beer. And stew, or mutton. Whatever's hot back there."

Wat nods, and slips back into the kitchen to fetch the guard's evening meal.

Haken moves over to a bench near some other House Vantri guards, and nods to them as he takes a seat.

"Eat hearty tonight, men," he instructs. "And don't stay up too late dicing. I don't know Ser Laton's plans yet, but we may yet need to stop over at Heart's Home. Means a long, hard ride tomorrow." He leans forward onto the table, resting his forehead on the palms of his hands. When the serving girl brings him a mug of beer, he smiles in thanks. _Pretty girl. Nice freckles._ He admires her from behind for a few minutes as she returns to the kitchen, until one of his men ribs him with an elbow in jest.

"Mind yourself," he retorts. "A man can look where he pleases."

She returns a short while later with a steaming bowl of stew for the sarjeant, and her hand brushes his arm as she turns away, lingering perhaps a little too long on his elbow. Haken smiles.

Shouts ring out from the barn across the inn's courtyard.

_By the Seven!_ he curses. "No meal again." He quickly downs the beer as he stands, nodding to the other guards to start sobering up. "I'll handle this."

Outside, Haken sees Ser Patrek's squire and one of his guards exiting the barn, leading a hefty lad from the building.

"Who?" He begins to ask.

The squire, Joff, pipes up in a voice that could probably use some maturing. "Found him hiding in one of the stalls, beneath some hay."

Haken nods absently at the squire, but stares at the bigger lad. _Something familiar._ He studies the lad, looking for notable marks. _Big arms, strong. Calloused hands - this boy has the favor of the Smith._ He blinks, and snaps his fingers as it comes back to him. "Roy. Roy Stone."

Joff takes a step away from the bigger lad, a strange mix of respect and contempt obvious in his expression. _Poor lad doesn't know how to handle us bastards._ Haken smiles ruefully, but ignores the squire.

"You left the mines some time ago, Roy. Weren't you apprenticing to a smith somewhere?" Haken steps aside and motions towards the inn. "Come inside and tell us what you were doing hiding over there."


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 26, 2011)

Ser Jarl sits down in the room, across from the sellsword. He made a point to ignore the murderer's smug demeanor. "That shouldn't be necessary, Pate. This man will tell us what he knows," Jarl replied to the guard.

"Your foreign friends have abandoned you. There are plenty of witnesses to have your head. Corbray's men are downstairs to do it. Now is not the time to be cryptic nor churlish. You claimed that you've killed a knight. Who was he? And why did you do it? Cooperate and you might be able to keep your life."

Jarl hears some commotion from downstairs. Without taking his gaze off Agorn, Jarl says "Pate, keep an eye in the hall."


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## Cor Azer (Aug 26, 2011)

*OOC:*


Ser Jarl gets 1 success against Agorn, but the influence damage is reduced to zero by Agorn's disposition - he obviously considered the words, but ultimately dismisses them.


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## muggie2 (Aug 26, 2011)

Cor Azer said:


> "You left the mines some time ago, Roy. Weren't you apprenticing to a smith somewhere?" Haken steps aside and motions towards the inn. "Come inside and tell us what you were doing hiding over there."




Roy looks taken aback."S-s-s-ser?"
He stops, with an obvious effort to stop stuttering. Haken gestures at a table, and Roy sits heavily. Joff stands behind him.
Haken repeats the question.
"W-well, sir, it's not like I r-really saw everything, and I d-d-don't want  t-to get anyone in trouble."
Haken sighs, and sits straighter. Sometimes memory took a little encouraging, no matter what that did to his headache.
"You can tell me, lad. I can see you have no blood on you, so you didn't do it. But if we want to know what happened, we need you to tell us what you saw. Even if it wasn't everything. You're all we have. You have to tell us."
Roy nods.
"W-well, ser, what I saw was this. A man came in and said something to the stableboy. The stableboy, he didn't seem to like it, an' said no. He grabbed the boy and hit him. Or maybe he grabbed him before he said something, I can't quite be sure, like. Anyway, the stableboy went down, and some other man came running over. Maybe he was going to help, I don't rightly know. Anyway the first man, he says "You don't know what you just saw!" and he smacks the new guy across the face. And the stableboy, his heads gone kinda soggy, I don't know how to say it, but like it's not the right shape anymore."
"Then another man comes in, pulls his sword, an' the first man and the new one they start fighting with swords. Now, I can't remember which one had his sword out first, but I think it was the first man, and they start going for it."
He shakes his head, and wipes the tears out of his eyes.
"The first man, he just seemed to play with him, Ser. The new man didn't seem to get a decent hit on him, and by the end, the first man had chopped him up. He slit his throat, Ser. And it was like it wasn't enough for him. He just stalks out of the barn, looking for the man he'd hit after the stableboy, like he was huntin' him down or something. And I can still hear the words he was sayin'. He was saying he weren't no Ser."
He shook his head.
"Me cousin, well, me father's brother's son, anyway, he was a hunter, Ser, and he told me about weasels. Little vicious basta-, I mean, vicious wee sods, Ser, that's what he said. Never really understood him 'til I saw that man tonight."
He raised his eyes from the table and looked Haken in the eyes.
"He was a like a human weasel, Ser. That's what he reminded me of. Not just what he did, but the way he did it, and the way he hissed his words, and went out to hunt the man he'd hurt earlier. And that's why I stayed in the hay, deep as I could. Compared to him, Ser, I'm a big fat rabbit. Maybe if he didn't have a sword, if it was like a bar-room brawl, maybe I'd have a chance, but even then..."
He dropped his eyes to the table again.
"He killed a knight, Ser. Me, I'm a blacksmith. Was a miner. Him in armor, me in clothes? Even if I had me leathers on, it'd be just the same. Dead rabbit, Ser. So I stayed there, an' I didn't move, didn't want 'im to see me. And he just left that man on the floor, throat open, blood pooling all around him."
He raised his eyes again, this time fiercely.
"Mebbe that makes me a coward, Ser. I don' know. Mebbe if I was in me leathers, with a mining hammer in me hand, mebbe then I woulda done something. But I wasn't dressed, an' I don' have me old hammer. My knuckledusters wouldn't have been much good against a sword. So I stayed quiet, an' a man died. What should I have done?"
Haken sat there, and looked at the lad.
"I'm not a Ser either, lad."


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 27, 2011)

"Well, cousin, it seems he don't wanna talk to us.  Maybe he could write it down then so it wouldnt be like he was talkin to us?"  Mhyrko eyes the sellsword.
"Or maybe he needs a little convincing?  I'm sure we can fine a way to...open him up?"


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## Cor Azer (Aug 28, 2011)

*OOC:*


Mhyrko's words seem to carry a bit more weight - 2 successes for 6 influence, reduced to 2 damage. Agorn is at 10/12 composure.


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## Cor Azer (Aug 29, 2011)

_Buck forward; head to stomach. Steward crumples._

_Spin on knees; chair legs clip knight's ankle and knees - no armor, but probably little damage - but at least tripped up._

_Kick down to push up, ramming chair into the new guy - smells like dog - crushing him into the wall..._

_Halberd offs my head_

Agorn frowns. Another scenario is tossed. _Stranger take that damned guard._ A fifth escape attempt starts brewing in his thoughts, but he discards it almost immediately. The guard is too far away to take out with the initial strike, and the halberd negates that distance problem for his gaoler. _Pate_ he thinks, forcing himself to recall the guard's name. _I'm better than that cowardly lion. I know my enemies' names._ He stares at the guard, idly hoping that a guard named Sleepy Pate would sudden nod off like some noble fop after a night in a brothel. _No..._ he thinks, _No, you threatened my person. I will deal with..._

_Eh now, what did that dog one say?_ He gaze shifts, quickly playing back the conversation in his head to catch the master of hounds' words. _Mhyrko. He's new... no... he just caught up with them. A scout likely... Most likely he'll find Wylke. Him or his hounds._ Agorn had heard the dogs outside, but had hoped that weren't part of the House Vantri group.

"Write it down?" Agorn spits at the thought. "What are you? Some kind of maester. Servant to men better than you? Men of action don't need papers. We have steel."

"And you think you can open me up?" Agorn smiles his toothy smirk. "Yes, I caught your meaning, you clever clod. Open me, get me to talk... or open me up with that guard's halberd. Aye, I know how you think. Do I think you might actually follow through?"

"Ser Jarl - a knight, and not one of them hedge ones - he wouldn't stain his honor."

"Robin - a squeamish little fellow - wouldn't know a sword from a stick."

"You - Mhyrko," says the sellsword, stretching out the name almost obscenely. "You are a paper tiger. Bluster and bravado. You skulk in the woods looking for threats, but then run back to your lord's skirts for his protection."

Agorn jerks his head at Pate, rudely, but almost with a hint of respect. "Pate there is the only one of you with the stones to do what's needed. Man has no illusions about this world. We live. You kill. Someone dies. Just how it is." He turns to looks back at Ser Jarl and Mhyrko. "But you highborn can pretend that stuff don't happen. You live like you're better than the smallfolk, but when you need dirty work done, you'll heap praise on them; maybe even offer to change their lives."

He looks to Robin. "They offer you some knight's castoff daughter? Say they'll find a respectable match for you?"

"And you," he says, looking to Pate. "What'll you get? Your spurs some day? A big, bold knight like Ser Jarl, here?"

"It doesn't matter," he says, dropping his gaze back to Ser Jarl. "Ser here won't do anything. You can threaten me all you like, but I know you won't do what you want. Honor and all that dung fed to little girls in their songs." He chuckles. "Quite the scheme you all have going. You can pretend your honor is all that. Pretend that you're doing to world a favor by showing mercy. And then a wink. A nod. Sleepy Pate there offs my head. Says I twitched or something. Maybe you pretend to believe him. Maybe you don't. Either way, you say he's some smallfolk guard, acting on his own."

He looks to Pate. "Should have been a sellsword, friend. Trust only the coin your paid. These ones will drop you faster than a lady drops her skirts at her wedding. You're not a noble like them. What do they care about you? Keeping you about doesn't put another boy in some whore of a lady's womb. It doesn't further... " He pauses, but continues with contempt dripping from his lips. "The House."

Agorn is about to say more, but he hears footsteps in the hallway. _What now?_

The door creaks open, and Haken pokes his head in. "Ser Jarl?" The guard speaks softly, trying not to let the sellsword hear, but Agorn's ears are too good. "Ser Patrek's men found another witness in the barn. An apprentice smith was hiding in the hay. I don't know if you remember Roy Stone - he worked in the mines a few years ago. Now he's learning to smith."

_In the hay?_ Agorn curses his luck and starts mulling over this new development. He wasn't sure if these ones were cunning enough to make up a witness, but he didn't think so. _Thought it was just the stableboy. Seven hells, why couldn't that boy just done as he was told. Just a taste and all this would have been..._ The sellsword spits. _No. No, I'm not like these other lords. I don't wish and complain. I make things happen. These Vale lordlings and knights won't stand in the way of my vengeance._

"So, Ser Jarl. You have a witness. Am I to have a trial?"









*OOC:*


Agorn gets two successes on his influence attempt on Pate (not saying what ability he rolled) for 6 influence damage. Presumably Pate is at least indifferent, which reduces the damage to 2, leaving him at 12/14 composure.

For those unaware, composure is reset after every intrigue, so influence damage doesn't carry over.


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## ShaggySpellsword (Aug 30, 2011)

Pate scowls at the sellsword's words.  "Lord Vantri has always been good to me.  Guardin' keeps me outta the mines and close to home.  If bein' a sellsword means getting up to...whatever it was you were getting up to with the stable-boy before you started brawlin' an' murderin'...I don't expect that life's for me.  But if you want and the Sers will it, I'll be happy to be the one to take your head when the time comes.  

Unless you had some reason for slaughterin' a helpless stable-boy?


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## Gurthngwaw (Aug 31, 2011)

"You seem to have a lot of anger in you. I suppose i would too if i were you. But you have it all wrong. Take Pate for example. True he is not a Vantri by name but he is still a member of the house. As he said he has always been treated well. Ser Jarl, well i don"t think killing you would stain his honor all that much. As for me, I think no more or less of small folk than i do of nobles. All part of the whole picture. And a picture i prefer to view from afar when I have the choice. People like you disgust me. You think you have the right to kill a man because you have the skill to do so. Lords will kill a man because they have the right to judge them but does that mean they have the wisdom to know what is best? Which is the greater evil?" Mhyrko chuckles and smiles an earnest smile. "It seems we both have opened up, eh? I have never run to a lords side for protection. I deal with threats as needed. But always within the law and always as my Lords wish it. You will be brought to justice for what you have done. If that means you are set free without punishment then so be it. I have a hunch that the truth of why we have come to this will prove interesting at the least." Leaning close but just out of range of a headbutt, Mhyrko glares at the prisoner and speaks softly and slowly "But if you think to escape before you are tried, think again. Noone escapes me when I set myself to hunt."
(i think its 18 not 21 i misread the adding of fate)


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## Cor Azer (Aug 31, 2011)

*OOC:*


If you burn a destiny point (gone forever), you can add +5 to your test (as one example). If you spend the destiny point (gone until a story goal is achieved), you can add a bonus d6 to your test (as one option), which would let you roll 4d6 (drop lowest) for one test. Which did you want to do?


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## Captain Impossible (Aug 31, 2011)

Ser Jarl watches the sellsword eye the group over, like a predator studying a herd for stragglers. "For someone who thinks he's figured it all out, you're missing some facts," the knight says to the captive. "Corbray's men are downstairs. This inn is filled with witnesses, and getting fuller it seems. That is everything needed to take your head, and still holding true to honor, justice, and law. No winks or nods required."

"I am not your enemy," Jarl continues, standing up. "Your condition is beyond that now. You've given us plenty of reasons to have you meet the Stranger. I'd suggest you start given us a reason not to. You've likely thrown away your freedom. If you tell us what you know, it may mean the difference between getting the sword and taking the Black."

Ser Jarl exits the room and heads down to meet this new witness, trying to remember what he may know about the him.


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## DrZombie (Aug 31, 2011)

Laton sits across from Ser Gough, trying to keep the fat pig of a man entertained.
He motions the barmaid to keep Ser Gough's glass filled to the brim with the strongest wine available, while sipping from a watered-down glass of wine himself.
"A man of the world like yourself must have travelled to many places, and must have seen some of the most beautifull girls of the whole realm, no?"


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## Gurthngwaw (Sep 1, 2011)

*OOC:*


ah yes my mistake ill just withdraw the destiny point if thats ok and go with the straight roll.


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## Cor Azer (Sep 2, 2011)

*OOC:*


So, Mhyrko gets 2 successes for 6 influence, reduced to 2; and Ser Jarl gets 1 success, with his influence being reduced to 0. Agorn is at 8/12 composure.

Giving a day or so for jackslate to post Robin's action before continuing with Agorn's response.

Ser Jarl apparently remembers Roy Stone.


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## Cor Azer (Sep 5, 2011)

Agorn sneers derisively as Ser Jarl exits the room. "No, I haven't figured everything out. But I'm learning, and I plan to go on learning." 

He snorts.

"I'm not the only one who doesn't have all the facts; only difference is that I'm not telling you what I know."

The sellsword's tooth grin returns. "Want to know what I learned?" He looks to Mhyrko, and then nods at the wall. "I learned these walls aren't too thick, and my ears are pretty good. I learned your Ser Jarl isn't too cunning, letting me know there are Corbray men here after that bastard guard mentioned Ser Patrek..."

"See, a sellsword lives by learning, and before I came near Heart's Home, I learned Lord Lyonel's swords, and there's only one Patrek - Ravensblood. Decent sword, bad for headaches, always carries his shield high in a joust."

He drops his voice to barely above a whisper. "Heard guards outside talking about a missing Lynderly girl earlier, and as I'm not one to trust coincidences, I'm guessing they're looking for the pregnant one Ser Gough named in the common room. Now, usually the Vantri are all friendly with the Corbrays so I'm keen to learn why you'd risk all that by not telling them you have the girl they're looking for."

Louder, he continues, "Now, I could tell them. Might be that Ser Patrek might trust me a little more than the knights who lied to him. That... That would be something to learn."

He leans back in his chair as best he can. "You know what happened in that barn. I never denied it. But your witness in the hay? Your half-blind squire? Your bleeding knight? What do they know? Nothing worthwhile. You know the what, but not a one of you know the why. And really, it's the why that's important."

Agorn shrugs, having made his point. "Without the why, you're not doing justice. It's just murder."









*OOC:*


1 success vs Mhyrko, but damage reduced to 0 due to his disposition


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## Cor Azer (Sep 7, 2011)

Haken accompanies Ser Jarl back down to the common room to see Roy Stone. He says nothing, as the knight walks silently, obviously contemplating something in his own thoughts. The sarjeant nods pleasantly when he enters the room, seeing Roy sitting before a healthy meal. _Poor lad has probably been lacking a good meal the last while, seeing how he saw fit to try to bunk in the stable._

He has to roll his eyes though, as he catches Ser Gough regaling Ser Laton with a tale of some number of Braavosi courtesans, the rotund knight oblivious to the distaste his tale leaves in his lady Dawlyn.

He harumphs, cutting off his current story mid-compromising position.

"Say now, Ser Laton?" He raises one bushy eyebrow inquisitively. "Why the sudden interest in my conquests? I'm not so naive as all that - you didn't seem so into my stories whilst on the road, only now that Ser... Ser Patrek, " he adds after a moment, snapping his fingers as he remembers. "Yes, only after Ser Patrek arrived asking about a different girl." He leans in, a wistful conspiratorial look on his face, "I wonder why you don't tell him about the Lady Palla we found on the road, hmmm?" He smiles invitingly, "We're all friends here - comrades-in-arms, no less! Share, share! Surely you know some savory gossip about this Lynderly girl that you're choosing not to tell Ser Patrek yet."

His jowls shake as he chuckles, and he carefully points at the younger knight. "You. Oh for shame!," he teases, "Tell me your not the bastard's father!"









*OOC:*


2 successes against Ser Laton; influence reduced to 2, Laton is at 7/9 composure.


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## muggie2 (Sep 7, 2011)

Cor Azer said:


> Haken accompanies Ser Jarl back down to the common room to see Roy Stone. He says nothing, as the knight walks silently, obviously contemplating something in his own thoughts. The sarjeant nods pleasantly when he enters the room, seeing Roy sitting before a healthy meal. _Poor lad has probably been lacking a good meal the last while, seeing how he saw fit to try to bunk in the stable._




Roy was looking at the meal in front of him with mixed feelings. It was, to be sure, the best meal he'd had for a long time, but the things he was seeing and hearing, added to what he'd already seen and heard, were trying to drown out the demands of his stomach. They'd taken him back to the stable "to get his things", but he was pretty sure they'd wanted to check out his story. The sight that greeted them on the floor of the stables pretty much took away any tendency toward disbelieving him. He wasn't sure whether they sneered at his possessions when he dug them out from behind the hay, but he expected they would have if they hadn't been a trifle distracted by the blood.
Back in the common room, they'd asked him if he was hungry, and he;d been unable to deny it. But for all that, what he was seeing and hearing were rapidly eating into his shock at seeing the knight so easily taken down in the stables.
He'd always been brought up to believe that knights were the best fighters around, but the sellsword had made the knight look weak. Well, he was old, for a knight, and unarmored to boot, but his skills just hadn't been in the same league. And after all the tales of chivalry and nobility, the sight of a young knight hanging on the words of a blubber-jowled old glutton while the older man talked of his dalliances with courtesans while stuffing himself full of food and drink until it dripped off his chins, that was just, well, wrong.
From high regard, he was starting to veer towards contempt for some of the knights. They couldn't all be like that, surely. Could they?
He thought about it unhappily, as he tucked into his food. His eyes flicked around the room, hoping for some distraction from his increasingly uncomfortable thoughts. Armor, he thought, think about the armor. The old knight wasn't wearing his, and he was taken apart. What he himself had was shabby in comparison to what he could see here and there, even though not everyone was wearing theirs. If he wanted to avoid a rather messy fate, it would be a good idea to see if anyone was wearing anything that might give him some ideas about how to improve his own. He obviously couldn't rely on knightly protection & justice the way he'd always dreamed, or even, as he took a long glance at the glutton knight and his companion, knightly nobility. Yet for all that, the squire had tried to intervene to protect a stableboy, and the knight had been willing to put his life on the line to protect his squire. Haken obviously thought well of the House, or he wouldn't work for them as conscientiously as he did. He looked down at his plate and was surprised to see it empty. Well, whatever else a person may think of the House, at least they'd fed him and treated him gently. He straightened his shoulders. The shock of what he'd seen was less vivid, somehow, with a meal sitting warm in his belly. Yes, some of the knights may be less than he'd always believed, in nobility and in fighting skill, but the House was more than that. 
And yet, he had the feeling that it was down to him to defend himself, and that was still kinda uncomfortable.


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## Gurthngwaw (Sep 8, 2011)

*OOC:*


using the read target technique against agorns passive deception






Mhyrko nods as the sellsword continues to reveal hmself.  Realizing there is more to this man than they first suspected, perhaps a different approach might be met with more success than the current exchange has.  Maybe they can make a deal?  Maybe his actions were justified?  We shall see.


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## Cor Azer (Sep 8, 2011)

*OOC:*


Read target successful. Agorn is merely indifferent to you (he sees you as an obstacle, not his true foe). His current technique is convince (he wants you to let him go free, without wanting you to later track hin down).


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## Gurthngwaw (Sep 8, 2011)

*OOC:*


I get a +1d to persuasion and deception til the end of the intrigue, but he gets to go again as i hold back to read him.  If i read the action correctly.


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## Captain Impossible (Sep 8, 2011)

Ser Jarl looked over the common room. He saw the boy who had been hiding in the stable, a large lad with obvious strength. The knight recognized Roy Stone, and remembered the cave-in. Roy had lost the only father he ever knew. 

At another table, Ser Gough was talking with Laton. The glutton's inquisitive look told Ser Jarl that the Crelling knew something was up and wanted answers. A sellsword trying to worm his way out of his bonds. A debauched oaf rooting around the Lady's secrets. Corbray's bannerman sleeping in the same inn. It was too many daggers to juggle. 

He needed to find out what the boy knew, then help Laton pacify Ser Gough. Hopefully, Robin would be able to pry some information out of the sellsword. Ser Jarl sat down at the boy's table.

"Roy, it is unexpected seeing you here. It would be joyous if not for this night's terrible circumstances. How did you come to this inn?"


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## muggie2 (Sep 9, 2011)

Captain Impossible said:


> "Roy, it is unexpected seeing you here. It would be joyous if not for this night's terrible circumstances. How did you come to this inn?"




Roy looked at him, and tried to decide whether he was honestly asking, or trying some fancy thinking on him. Either way he was going to get the same answer, but how much of it he'd get depended on the reactions he saw.
He wiped the last of the food off the plate with the remains of the bread, and answered, bread in hand.

"Well, Ser, they let me go at the mines, 'cause they didn't need another blacksmith, and I still wasn't too fond of goin' back down into the deeps. So I put together me stuff, an' headed out. I figured there was no point going to a castle or a town. 'cause there's no work for journeymen in places like that. Villages that don't have a regular smith have a few jobs, or so I was told, but it seems there ain't no villages without a smith around here. 
I helped a merchant caravan for a bit, doin' the heavy stuff, and woulda reshoed one of the horses that was starting to go lame, but they didn't want to stop to give me time to build a forge so I could get the metal hot enough.The next inn they got to, they decided they didn't need me after all. I think they'd decided I was some kind of brigand who was trying to set them up for an attack, and decided to politely let me go rather than take a risk."
He stopped for a second.
"I don't know why they thought that. I mean, I'm a blacksmith. It's not like I'm dangerous or anything."
He took a mouthful of the bread, and chewed on it for a bit.
"So, anyway, there I was at the inn. I got a bit of work with horses needing to be reshoed, and it turned out there were a few things arouhnd the place that needed a bit of fixing, but soon enough there was nothing to do, and I heard about a tourney. Well, I figured that there'd be a lot of short-term demand for   work, with horses to shoe, maybe armor to take the dents out of, and maybe even some weapons to repair, or even make, if I was lucky. So I headed off that way, only I got a bit lost, and ended up trying to ford a river that, well.."
He coughed, and finished the rest of the bread, washing it down with an ale.
"Anyway, to cut things short, I kinda over-estimated how strong I was, and under-estimated the river. Lost about 30 pounds of iron scrap, and my 8-pound hammer with it. Saved everything else though. So there I was, wet through, and with rain heading in. I figured there was more chance of shelter this way, and a couple of hundred paces further on, I ran across the road that led me here."
He sighed.
"Now, if I'd just been a bit more persistent about following the river before deciding to cross, I'd be in better shape. Me da always said I should look before I leap. Don't think he meant it about rivers though."
"So, I saw the inn, crawled into the stables out of the wet, and fell asleep. I figured that I would wake up and come in for a meal later on, but I wanted to at least get dry and get some sleep before I came in, just in case they turned me away. At least that way I'd be in better shape to try and find a place for the night."
"Next thing I know I heard some man demanding something, and I sat up just in time to see what I saw."
He took a good look at Jarl's face before continuing, and decided he liked what he saw there, so he kept going.
"Always thought knights were the best fighters in the realm. The sellsword was better. Guess the armor they wear helps a lot more than I thought. I'm going to have to put some thought into my own armor, after seeing that."
He took another draught of ale.
"Also thought all knights were noble and chivalrous. I figure some are, after all, you've listened to me without showing contempt, and the knight in the stables risked his life for a stableboy. But after listening to those two over there," he said, gesturing toward Ser Laton and Ser Gough, "talking about women, and what they've done or would do, well, those ain't chivalrous words at all, Ser. Mind you, it's mostly the fat old one doing the talking, and eating for that matter, and the younger one lapping up the words, but it's not what I ever thought of knights being like."
He sighed.
"I guess even knights can be good or bad too. It's just... I always thought of them as being, like, shining examples. When I was a kid, I dreamed of being one, until I found out that bastards can't be, well, except maybe hedge knights."
He swallowed the rest of his ale.
"I guess it's just that I never thought I had any illusions in life anymore, and now I'm finding I did have, after all. And they're gone, or at least going."
"Anyway, that's me, that's why I'm here. On my way to the tournament, not to compete, 'cause I'm just a smith, not a fighter, but for work."


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## DrZombie (Sep 11, 2011)

Cor Azer said:


> His jowls shake as he chuckles, and he carefully points at the younger knight. "You. Oh for shame!," he teases, "Tell me your not the bastard's father!"
> 
> 
> 
> ...




"Ser Gough. Your insinuation is an insult to me and to my House. I take offence. Either apologise or draw steel." Laton says with a dangerous light in his eyes and his hand on his mace

[OOC : I only just realised that ENworld ate my post. I made the same reply a few days ago and was waiting for a response.]


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## muggie2 (Sep 11, 2011)

Roy stood up, eyes motioning Ser Jarl to the brewing danger, then realized just how stupid that must seem. As if anyone in the inn wouldn't have heard that exchange.
"I apologize, Ser Jarl. It seems that the lad's tolerance also has limits."
He muttered under his breath "... although it took the intimation that the lad had fathered a bastard for those limits to be realized."
He thought for a couple of seconds. Those two had seemed as thick as thieves. Maybe they'd been playing a nastier game of words than he had realized. It had seemed they'd been friendly all this time. Had he misjudged them?"
He suddenly focused on where he was and what he was doing. Standing, unarmored, weaponless (unless one counted a cheap wooden tankard) in what might soon be a serious battle.
"Oh, Stranger take me for an idiot!" he cursed.


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## Cor Azer (Sep 11, 2011)

"The Stranger has more pressing idiots than you, lad."

Haken rests his hand atop his swordhilt, but he resists the urge to rise. Ser Laton had already laid the challenge, and a show of force would only exacerbate the hot tempers.

Across the room, Ser Gough manages little other than blinking several times, competely taken aback. It takes a moment for the sarjeant himself to realize that Ser Gough wasn't acting - he seems to truly believed that it was ok, even expected, for a knight to treat a woman in such a way. The smashing of that belief left a definite impression on his fading smile.

"I..." Ser Gough opens his mouth a few times, and closes it silently.

Sweat beads on the rotund knight's forehead as he realizes the stares of almost everyone in the room are on him.

"I'm... I'm sor-" He snorts, clearing his thoughts if not his record. "My apologies to you, Ser Laton," he says as he stands. "And by extension to the Lady Palla." He bows, suprisingly graceful. "It was not becoming for a knight to say such things, even in jest." He drops one last gaze at the remains of the meal in front of him, sighs, but turns from the bench. "I shall retire for the night."

He leaves the room without another word or looking anyone in the eye. His lady Dawlyn follows closely behind, a comforting hand hovering hesitantly by his shoulder.

Haken is about to speak when Hanna rises from the bench, smiling shyly at Ser Laton. She moves to leave, but looks back just before disappearing down the hallway and mouths a silent thanks to the House Vantri heir. She lets her hair tumble down around her face as she follows her lady to their room.

Mugs are raised for Ser Laton, and a slow murmur grows louder, eventually echoing down to a small room holding a sellsword.

"Honour bends nor breaks!"


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## DrZombie (Sep 11, 2011)

"Honor bends nor breaks." Laton acknowledges the toast of his men.
"Some fresh ale for me and my men, if you please, milady. This conversation has left a foul taste in my mouth."
Laton stands and looks at his men.
"Some believe that the faults of the father pass on to the son. I am not one of them. I value each and every one of my retainers, no matter their parentage. But enough of that matter. I leave for my rooms. Tomorrow will be a long day. Uncle, if you could join me for some discussion 'bout the morrow?"


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## Captain Impossible (Sep 13, 2011)

Ser Jarl looked at the boy. "Knights are men, nothing more. As for the sellsword, he's a glorified highwayman who..."

Before he could finish, Laton had warned Ser Gough in harsh terms. Ser Jarl rested his hand on his sword, but saw that the rotund knight has unprepared and unwilling to fight. Ser Jarl hid his smirk at the sight of Ser Gough's hasty retreat.

At the young heir's request, Ser Jarl rose from his seat. "Thank you for your story. Rest now, and if you wish, you may travel with us to the tournament in the morning," he said to Roy Stone before joining his nephew.

"Don't get too pleased with your performance, boy" Ser Jarl whispered to Laton. "Ser Gough is a runt on the field, but he's a giant in the gossip circles. We don't want to make an enemy of him on the eve of the tournament. Try to patch things up in the morning." Ser Jarl raised an eyebrow as they walked upstairs. "That said, it was a masterful feat of getting him out of our hair and impressing that girl."


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## Cor Azer (Sep 14, 2011)

Agorn frowns as he hears the chants echoing from the common room.

_Honor,_ he thinks. _Stupid rules for limited men._ He stares are the three sharing his room, trying to gauge how closely they take those words to heart. _Who's going to try something foolish,_ he wonders. _Words are wind,_ he thinks, remembering an old expression. _Actions are all that matter._

The sellsword smirks to himself, watching the expression on Mhyrko's face as the gears and thoughts roil through his mind. _Got one thinking, did I?_

He eyes master-of-hounds, but soon comes to realize that his expression is equally being scrutinized.

_Seven hells,_ he curses silently. _Changing tactics. I let something slip... What did I let out?_

Agorn fights off a distressed look, but in his mind he begins replaying the conversation so far. Nothing stands out as incriminating, but the sellsword realizes that he's trying to juggle too many balls in this game. _Save my ace in reserve, but for now..._

"Mhyrko Vantri. You know I'm not a knight like your Ser Jarl; for now, I'm a sellsword, and we got our own sort of honor. A contract. I have never broken one and never will. A sellsword who breaks contracts doesn't get any more. I don't much care if you respect my actions, but you have to respect a man who keeps his word... his oath."

The sellsword watches the master-of-hounds closely for any reaction, certain the steward and guard would follow the Vantri cousin's lead.

"You're not a knight either, but like all them Vantris, you got your own honor. I respect that - a man is only worth his convictions; his actions." Agorn pauses for deep breath, and then pushes, laying out his idea. "You're not going to just let me go. I may be wishful, but I'm not a fool. But there are alternatives to just killing me here. If you look past the circumstances, I showed tonight that I've got some ability with the sword. I've got a streak of stubbornness like any Kingswood boar that says I'm not going to fold to my employer's enemies..." He pauses, letting the implication sift into the master-of-hounds thoughts.

"Hire me. Raquinno dropped my contract earlier tonight, so I'm not beheld to any oath of service. I could give you one to House Vantri. Not asking for much. You can always use more swords traveling across the Vale so close to the clansmen."

The image of a young boy looking out at the Sunset Sea fills Agorn's thoughts, and he stiffens is lip to fight off the sad memory. _I'm not ending here..._

"I'm not your foe, Vantri. I've got plenty of them out in the world, and I mean to pay them all for what they did to me and mine." He bites his tongue to keep from spitting, but soon adds, "Lannisters aren't the only ones who pay their debts..."

"Don't let me end here."









*OOC:*


Agorn uses Shield of Reputation to try to improve Mhyrko's disposition, and then spends one of his Destiny points to still make an Influence attempt. I guess it doesn't matter too much, but I think Gurthngwaw is right, in that it should be Agorn's disposition and technique this round that is learned, not last round. In any event, he's trying to be Amiable to Mhyrko, and using the Bargain technique - offering service for some sort of freedom.

Roll results: Mhyrko's disposition is improved to Amiable (note +1 bonus to Persuasion tests), but still Agorn's words don't seem to move him.


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## Gurthngwaw (Sep 15, 2011)

[FONT=tahoma, new york, times, serif]Mhyrko listens as he looks upon the sellsword.  He considers carefully the words of the prisoner and realizes that in order for the Vantri to put this puzzle together they will need the pieces this mercenary is holding.  No doubt they will not be freely given but perhaps there is another way.  
"You say you have been learning.  Well, so have I.  You seem ready to talk...to come to an agreement if you will.  Lets see what we can do about that."
"It's true we cannot set you free, mainly because of the death of the stableboy.  I am sure a man of your ability could easily have knocked him out or somehow avoided killing him.  So my first question has to be why?  Why is he dead?  Can you give me some reason I can present to justify it?
As for the knight, he still lives yet the purpose for your fight with him is also going to be a major concern.  Is there anything you can give me to understand how this came to be?"  [/FONT]
[FONT=tahoma, new york, times, serif]"Without the why...isnt that what you said?  Consider this.  Without the why, how could they judge you anything but a murderer?  If you have a why, give it to me.  I promise I will make sure the sers know it before they decide what to do.  If you hold it til the last it will only seem to be a desperate effort to escape justice.  Just consider it and do what you think is best.  I won't force or trick answers from you.  But if you able to judge a mans character then i tell you to judge mine and see if it tells you to believe me."  [/FONT]
"Don't let you end here?  I can only try if you give me the means to help you.  Its clear there is more to it."


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## Cor Azer (Sep 15, 2011)

*OOC:*


Gurthngwaw, you also get +1 on your Persuasion roll for being Amiable (due to Agorn's shield of reputation) which bumps you to a 16, good enough for 3 successes, and 6 influence after reduction, leaving Agorn at 2/12 composure...

I'll see what others post before adding his response.


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## Gurthngwaw (Sep 18, 2011)

*OOC:*


crickets chirping


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## Captain Impossible (Sep 18, 2011)

Ser Jarl reentered the room holding the sellsword. He saw that Mhyrko and the mercenary had exchanged words, but Jarl had missed the details.

"So, has he given us any reason to keep him alive?" the knight asked his companions. Obviously, there had been words, but no information exchanged. At least not the information Ser Jarl sought. He addressed the sellsword.

"You're running out of time, my friend. You're bluffing your way to the chopping block. Being silent isn't going to help you. Even assuming I was determined to advocate for you simply out of curiosity, right now I have nothing that can stay the hand of those who will judge you. You need to tell us your story."


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## muggie2 (Sep 18, 2011)

Captain Impossible said:


> "Thank you for your story. Rest now, and if you wish, you may travel with us to the tournament in the morning," he said to Roy Stone before joining his nephew."




Roy sat there for a couple of minutes, looking around the room, nursing his drink.
He thought over the exchanges of the past few minutes, and sighed. He muttered to himself.
"Fool boy, letting your mouth run away with you like that. Doubting the honor of a Vantri? Questioning knighthood - to a knight? Your habit of saying what you think is going to get you killed one day. You're a blacksmith - shut up and do it."

He stood, and looked around the room, checking all the metalwork he saw for signs of wear, rust, and other blemishes. If he was indeed welcome to travel with them to the tourney, as Ser Jarl had said, and he had no reason to doubt him, then he could at least start by making himself useful - to anyone who needed him. And who knows - maybe he might find something of use to himself at the same time - like a pattern he could use to upgrade his armor to something more, well, useful. 

A sudden thought hit him, and he wandered over to the innkeep.
"If it pleases you, I'm a blacksmith by trade, and I was wondering if there was anything you needed done while I'm here. I'll be off with them in the morning, and it's a bit late to try and set up a working forge to do anything major, but if there's anything minor that could do with some work in the meantime..."


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## Cor Azer (Sep 19, 2011)

The sellsword glares at the newly returned knight.

"I don't bluff, Ser." He even manages to keep the contempt from his voice. Mostly. "It doesn't usually help."

"You say I killed a stableboy; I say I killed someone who tried to set me up."

Agorn's eyes almost glaze over, as if he was looking somewhere else. "Lions - so proud, tpp proud. They can't let anyone else have a moment of glory. Only they can lead. Only they can roar..."

He pauses to whince. "They killed my family. Almost everyone. Just because we tried to make our lives better. I fled. Across the Narrow Sea. Put it behind me until I met a lion on his own fool quest... I can't keep running. Came back, hunting lions."

His eyes refocus, a deep anger behind them.

"Stableboy said he knew a lion hereabouts. I went looking. Lion found me first. Boy had told the lion about me. Just not enough." Agorn smiles contentedly. "There's a lion in some ruin south of here, a few hours at most, by a lake."

"I killed them both. Never claimed otherwise. But now you know the why. And the why says it's not murder."

His voice grows cold. "It's vengeance."


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## Cor Azer (Sep 19, 2011)

Merrillio smiles softly as the serving girl shyly slips out of the kitchen, her hair slightly disheveled. He taps his chest and nods at her, but she fails to catch his signal, leaving with her top still slightly open. _Just so,_ he thinks. _Perhaps she'll get better tips now..._

He sighs, and fixes his own breeches before standing. Three days he'd been trying to get her to loosen up, but he enjoyed the chase - the hunt. He played the long game. As he wanders though the kitchen, he grabs an apple from a basket and takes a juicy bite. _Raquinno Teaira can stay in his room with the savage Dothraki, but Merrillio Dessaro must move._ His eye catches the innkeep's wife glaring at him, but he smiles and bows apologetically.

"Next time, m'lady." He winks. "Just so."

Two clinks announce his dropping of silver stags beside the apple basket.

He is about to follow the serving girl out of the kitchen - _Jenny,_ he recalls - just as a few whistles sound from the common room. _Perhaps she knows her blouse is open now... Just so._

The water dancer counts - 1... 2... 3... - and gracefully steps aside, pulling the door open as the poor girl hurries back into the kitchen, face blushing and one hand holding the top of her blouse closed.

"My girl, one must not rush from Merrillio Dessaro," he admonishes sweetly, "She might miss something... important." He gently brushes her hand aside and ties the top string of her blouse. "Just so."

Jenny is about to respond when he presses a finger firmly to her lips, but his attention is elsewhere, his head cocked towards the common room. Muffled a bit through the doors, he hears the innkeep politely decline the offer of help from the blacksmith, stating there's no real need at the inn.

_A blacksmith?_ thinks Merrillio. _I wonder if he could help?_

"Later, my dear Jenny." He sweeps a low bow. "Knock thrice. Just so." He raps quickly three times on a nearby table.

He backs out of the common room, watching the pretty girl blush again under the withering glare of the innkeep's wife.

"Pardon me, master blacksmith," says Merrillio, trying to grab Roy Stone's attention after his conversation with the innkeep. "I overhear you are looking for small jobs? Are you, by any chance, also a cartwright? My employer, Raquinno Teaira, is a merchant of Pentoshi, and we have been stuck at this inn for three days now - one of the wheels on his wagon is stuck; I think something is bent - just so - and keeps it from turning. The roads in this Vale of Arryn are not like those in the Free Cities - the ruts and rocks are ever so much more troubling here."

The water dancer shrugs as he explains, "Raquinno would not let either Phaqo or Agorn try to bend it back - he was afraid they might shatter the wood entirely - just so. But a blacksmith - you, you might have the tools Raquinno needs to fix his wagon? Yes? No?"

"I cannot speak to his offer of recompense, but Raquinno is generous to those he likes, and to someone who helps him return to his trade, I would think he would like. Just so." Merrillio smiles broadly, his eyes an obviosu mix of good humor and eagerness to finally be able to leave the inn.


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## muggie2 (Sep 19, 2011)

Cor Azer said:


> "Pardon me, master blacksmith," says Merrillio, trying to grab Roy Stone's attention after his conversation with the innkeep. "I overhear you are looking for small jobs? Are you, by any chance, also a cartwright? My employer, Raquinno Teaira, is a merchant of Pentoshi, and we have been stuck at this inn for three days now - one of the wheels on his wagon is stuck; I think something is bent - just so - and keeps it from turning. The roads in this Vale of Arryn are not like those in the Free Cities - the ruts and rocks are ever so much more troubling here."
> 
> The water dancer shrugs as he explains, "Raquinno would not let either Phaqo or Agorn try to bend it back - he was afraid they might shatter the wood entirely - just so. But a blacksmith - you, you might have the tools Raquinno needs to fix his wagon? Yes? No?"
> 
> "I cannot speak to his offer of recompense, but Raquinno is generous to those he likes, and to someone who helps him return to his trade, I would think he would like. Just so." Merrillio smiles broadly, his eyes an obvious mix of good humor and eagerness to finally be able to leave the inn.




Roy shrugged.
"Not sure. If it's metal, yes. If it's wood, not sure. If your employer says yes, I'd be happy to help.  If something is bent, well, wood don't usually bend. Metal though..." He sighed. "If it's metal and it don't need reforging, I can fix it. Unless it's something that'd need me 8 pound hammer to fix, then you'd be out of luck, 'cause that's still in a river somewhere."


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## Gurthngwaw (Sep 20, 2011)

Mhyrko nods to ser Jarl as he enters.  Waiting until the sellsword has responded to ser Jarl, Mhyrko says "Lannisters, eh?  That lot is lucky they backed the right horse 'else they'd all be swingin from the noose or shorter by a head.  Sounds like that would have suited you just fine.  You say they did your family wrong?  Well, if thats true you'd not likely find justice in any court these days.  I will admit to understanding your choice to take matters into your own hands.  Now it seems we have a problem on our hands." turning to ser Jarl " the Lannisters will want his head if he killed one of theirs.  They will have it too if they get any proof of that.  This alleged body south in the ruins...I could go see if it really is there?  If it is then it might be evidence.  But then it might not be there...and that means no evidence of that deed." Mhyrko does little to hide his offer to the knight...or the sellsword. "as for the stableboy...he might have gotten in the way of the fight and caught a wild stroke?    Ser Rolsten, however...what will he say about all this?  We should speak with him as soon as he is able to tell us what he knows."  Mhyrko sighs" one way or another this is going to be an unpleasant resolution.
Ser Jarl, you and ser lanton should decide how to proceed.  I believe this man may have had valid reasons for at least some of his actions but ultimately i stand by any decision you make."


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## DrZombie (Sep 21, 2011)

Laton looks at the sellsword, clearly unimpressed, then motions his uncle and his councillor towards the private room.

Once in the room he sighs and sits down.
"Uncle, next time I suggest we stop at an inn please tell me to just pitch up the tents. By the Seven, I wish that fat fool would have gone for his sword, that at least is something I could do anything about"

"I seek your advice. The girl. As far as I'm aware, there is no gain for her to return to her late husbands lands. What has passed has passed. Her father is looking for her. I say we have a word, discreetly, with the good knight searching for her, and tell her story. Her father might acknowledge the marriage and make a claim on the lands now rightfully his grandsons, or he might disavow her. In that case, should she want, there might be a place for her and her squire at our hold, if she's willing to eat some humble pie and work for her living. Her father might look with favor on our house if we keep matters discreet.

As for the sellsword. We're not on our lands. Let the local lord deal with him. If it were up to me we'd just hang him from the nearest tree. If it is true what he claims we might want to turn him over to the Lannisters, they'd be grateful for a chance of vengeance. Either way, he's not our problem."


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## Captain Impossible (Sep 24, 2011)

Ser Jarl pondered their situation. "The lady is in peril. From the sound of it, the uncle the squire mentioned might be more than willing to have some ill befall her. If we could find the septon who married them, so there'd be proof, and she could make a claim at the tournament."

Jarl paused. He then continued, "The sellsword is another matter. I'm not sure whether or not I believe him. And even if he is right, that doesn't let go of the issue of Ser Rolston's wounds. I can't imagine he'll just let it go. And Corbray's bannermen already know of it. I don't know how to proceed."


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## DrZombie (Sep 24, 2011)

"The sellsword is the lesser of our worries. More so, we are not at our own lands. I will not speak justice in another's fief. The lord of these lands will have to deal with him. I say we turn him over, and that will be the end of that story."

"As for the lady. I think it is for her Lord father to further handle this. Here as well can our actions be interpreted as meddling, especially now the fat fool will start his gossiping. We can best offer our support should her father want her to leave the public eye, making sure nothing ill befals the two, or better, the three of 'em."

He looks at his uncle thoughtfully.

"I say we let the Corbray know of both issues, and see how it plays from there. It appears to be the most honourable thing to do."


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## Cor Azer (Sep 26, 2011)

"A hammer?" says Merrillio. "I cannot say if the repair would require such - I know the blade: small, thin, and light - and care little for the cruder uses of metal. But yes, it is metal that has been damaged on Raquinno's wagon. Come, we shall fetch Raquinno, and he will be most generous, just so."

_Finally, the Titan shines his light on me,_ thinks the water dancer as he leads Roy Stone to Raquinno's room. _Once my debt is paid, I shall not work as a sellsword again._ He appraises the young lad as they walk, and notes a hint of naivety. As he places his hand on the doorknob and prepares to knock, he pauses, and looks again at the blacksmith.

He smiles and nods, leaning in close to whisper, "I like you, Roy Stone the Blacksmith. You have an eagerness I envy. Raquinno is generous, just so, but he is shrewd and still a greedy merchant. Think carefully on any offer he makes, whether now or later - there is always some hidden cost he does not tell his customers." _Or his hirelings..._ Merrillio thinks bitterly.

In the room, Raquinno sits at a small portable writing desk, using the bed as a poor chair. Quill in hand, he seems to be updating a ledger of some kind, while the large Dothraki Phaqo appears to be dozing in the far corner. Roy just notes the Dothraki's eye slit open enough to appraise the new arrivals, and then close. Still, the man's hand drifts slowly down to the hilt of his arakh, resting on the pommel.

"My good employer Raquinno Teaira, I may present Roy Stone the Blacksmith." Merrillio bows, sweeping a arm to introduce the young blacksmith.

"And a blacksmith helps me?" asks Raquinno, his eyes barely raising.

"I am thinking he can fix your wagon - a blacksmith is not so different from a cartwright? Just so?"

Now the Pentoshi looks up, even setting his quill aside in an inkpot. "A blacksmith and a cartwright are as similar as a water dancer and a Lysene whore - you may both wear silks and take my gold, but I wouldn't want you to switch places in my bed." As Merrillio blinks, taken aback, Raquinno continues, looking at Roy. "Still, you likely can't do any more harm than already done."

"Very well, Roy Stone the Blacksmith - I would like to engage your services to repair my wagon. I can offer you 5 silver stags for the work. I do not believe it should be very difficult for one used to working with his hands. I'm sure it does not require a true cartwright; to my untrained eyes, it looks like one of the pins holding a wheel to the axle has bent, jamming the axle from turning. Simple to fix I'm sure, but I have no the strength or tools to do so, and I only trust Merrillio with his balde and Phaqo with his arakh; I once trust Agorn with more than his sword, but apparently that leads to him murdering some stableboy, blinding a squire, and muting a knight." He shakes his head. "No. No more. Sellswords are guards, not craftsmen or diplomats."

"Muting a knight?" asks Merrillio, noting the curious choice of words.

The Pentoshi waves his hands nonchalantly. "The walls are very thin in this shabby inn. I hear the maester talking to the squire. The knight shall not talk again, even though he'll live. Agorn's blade cut his throat - the maester used some strange word I could not hear properly."

"But..." He says, dismissing the thought, "But, but, but. Roy Stone the Blacksmith, I do not pay in advance. No. Here, Merrillio will take you to my wagon, and show you the damage. If you can fix it, then return and I pay you 4 silver stags. If not, then I do not pay you." Raquinno picks up his quill, taps it on the edge of the inkpot to remove some ink, and then returns to his ledger. Without looking up, he adds, "Also, Merrillio, I am thinking you can relieve Hamish of his watch for the night."

The water dancer frowns, but says nothing.

"The bar wench can keep her own bed warm tonight. Just so?" says the Pentoshi, with only a hint of friendly mockery.

Merrillio sweeps his arm in a grand bow, but eyes the merchant sourly as he leads Roy from the room and to the merchant's wagon tied up behind the barn, all the while trying to hide his seething dislike for his employer.

"A word of warning," offers Merrillio before they reach the wagon. "Do not stare at Hamish Greyhair; he had a bout of greyscale as a child, and the scaly scars on his head makes him look like he wears a lizard's frill for a crown. He... is sensitive."

Arriving at the wagon, Merrillio greets Hamish pleasantly, but the greyed man stares ahead icily. The water dancer points out the damaged wheel to Roy, and then moves off to take a watch post near the front of the wagon. A thud announces Hamish hopping off the wagon, landing heavily on his feet. The ugly man looks dismissively at Roy, judging him not by size but by armament, and then makes his way back to the inn.

After he leaves, Merrillio pops his head around to see Roy Stone. "Another word of warning. Please fix the wagon, but do not get endebted to Raquinno Teaira."









*OOC:*


The wagon looks repairable, but if you want to try, it'll take a Challenging (9+) Athletics (strength applies) test to enact the repairs; a successful Routine (6+) Cunning test before hand can add +1B to the Athletics test.

If nobody else wants to immediately engage with any of Raquinno, Agorn, Ser Gough, Jace and Palla, or Maester Karlon, Ser Rolston, and Ollin, then my next update will be skipping ahead to the morning.


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## Gurthngwaw (Sep 27, 2011)

Mhyrko follows the sers from the room without a word.  He listens to their exchange silently until they seem to pause, then he shares his thoughts.  "regarding the girl...I don't think Lord Corbray would be very pleased if he found out that our family knew who she was and did not see her returned to him.  Is that not what Lord Loughton would expect if it was his daughter found by an allied lords family and men?."  Mhyrko clears his throat and continues "now the sellsword matter.  I think that when he was taken prisoned he did become our problem.  Now that he has shared his story with us I think you must be very sure of what you decide to do.  what if his story is true?  what if ser Rolsten drew on him first?  For what it's worth, i believe there is at least something worth looking into with this man.  I would hate to have a man sent to his grave because it was easier to wash our hands of his plight than to find the truth of the matter.  That being said,  know that any decision you make will find me in full support as always.  Maybe in the morning we could discuss it with corbrays men and see what their thoughts are?  if so, is there anything else to do tonight?  I would like to stretch my legs and take a swim before i sleep.  As always you are both welcome to join me if you think you can keep up." Mhyrko grins at the pair, hoping they might find a moment of amusement in this otherwise tangled mess of a roadtrip.


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## muggie2 (Sep 27, 2011)

Cor Azer said:


> After he leaves, Merrillio pops his head around to see Roy Stone. "Another word of warning. Please fix the wagon, but do not get endebted to Raquinno Teaira."




Roy takes a look at the wheel, and considers the pin that is obviously bent. He squirms a little to see it from all angles. He mutters to himself  "I'm a blacksmith, not a cartwright, but if it's the pin at fault, there shouldn't be anything I can't fix. As long as I check it out properly, anyway."
As he slides under the wagon, he thinks on what Merrillio had said. And what he hadn't. It didn't take a Maester to notice that Merrillio was taking a risk in warning him about Raquinno, and given Raquinno's words and attitude in the room, he was more inclined to believe that Merrillio was trustworthy than Raquinno. Which meant that he should be very careful NOT to get into any situation where he could be indebted to Raquinno. Which certainly meant not taking any money until Raquinno had agreed that the wagon wheel was fixed.
He squirms out from underneath the wagon, and goes to see Merrillio.
"I think I can fix it. Still, I don't know it for sure, and I won't until I actually do fix it. I won't take money until Raquinno is satisfied that it is, indeed, fixed. So I'm going to fix it now, and when it's done, I'll go up and tell him. Then he can check it, and pay me if he's satisfied with the work."
With that, he goes back into the inn and brings out his tools. There wasn't enough time (or fuel) to start a decent fire, so he was going to have to cold-forge this one. He props up the wagon so he can remove the pin (and the wheel if need be) and gets to work. Having checked it out, he feels sure he can do it, so he starts into it.

P.S. Note that the roll given for the Athletics roll is incorrect - it does not seem to have removed the two lowest dice, so the correct total should be 22. On the other paw, I forgot to add the cunning roll bonus die so who knows? In any case, a somewhat embarrassing success.


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## Gurthngwaw (Oct 4, 2011)

*OOC:*


ah...should i keep waiting or post on?


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## Cor Azer (Oct 4, 2011)

A cock crows in the distance.

_Like a nail being driven into my head._

The white fog seeps into the cracks of his eyes, and the knight slowly looks around the room.

_Not the open road at least,_ he thinks, thankful for the warmth and dryness.

The cock crows again, telling the knight that the hour is still early.

_By the Seven, I wish I was a heavy sleeper._ Ser Patrek attempts to roll from his bed, but his feet are slow to respond and overswing, so the knight tumbles out and lands on his knees.

"Ser?" asks his squire, more from reflex than wakeful alertness.

"Sleep, Joff. I need to make water."

He trudges to the window and looks out at the morning light filtering through the tree canopy. _Huh, seems someone fixed that wagon during the night..._

When the cock crows again, Ser Patrek presses the ball of his fist to his temple. "Stranger's luck," he curses. _Too early for milk yet..._

By the time Ser Patrek is done, his squire is up, dressed in simple livery, and scurried off to fetch his knight breakfast. Although the knight moves slowly about the room, his mind slowly begins to focus as his men relate the happenings of the evening, a new witness in the barn, the Vantri knights questioning the sellsword, the elderly Ser Rolston being rendered mute, and a rumor of a mysterious lady and a squire protector squirreled away in another room - probably some knight's mistress, if she's got a squire as a protector.

Findign his squire's extended absence irritating, Ser Patrek makes his way down to the common room, where he finds Joff sitting soaked with cow's milk, two upended buckets beside him, and a bar wench trying to stifle a laugh while acting apologetically.

"Joff?"

"I'm sorry, Ser; it was this wench's fault - she threw her milk at me!"

"I did not, Ser. I was carrying it back to the kitchen when your man barged in without a word! He's not supposed to-"

"Liar!" shouts the squire, not seeming to notice his noise is drawing even more stares from the common room. "Liar! Liar! You did this on purpose! You -"

A cuff on the side of the head shuts his mouth. "Enough. Go get cleaned up, or you'll reek all day."

"But she-"

"I don't care, Joff. I've got a headache already and the roosters just finished crowing."

The sulking squire squirms to his feet and stomps off, throwing a withering glare are the girl. "My apologies, girl. That was ill-mannered of my squire. Tell Wat that I'll pay for the milk. And bring me breakfast out in the common room when you get a chance, thank you."

"Thank you, Ser," says the girl, curtsying as gracefully as any noble lady, before slipping into the ktichen for a mop and bucket of water.

The common room had several guards within, mostly House Vantri, but at least one of the Corbray men travelling with Ser Patrek was eating, and the Pentoshi merchant sat at a table with three of his sellswords, counting out a stack of silver stags for a young but stout lad.

The knight looked around, but didn't see any of the Vantri kin. He spots one of the house Vantri sarjeants, and nods in greeting.

"You lords, sarjeant? Where might I find them this morning; I was hoping to talk to them before they leave."

Haken finishes his mouthful of beer-soaked bread, and points back to the rooms. "I suspect Ser Laton and Ser Jarl are in their rooms. Mhyrko is likely off for a morning swim to wash off the night sweat - the man is not made for inns, castles, or cities," he adds smiling. "I'm sure they'll be along soon."









*OOC:*


Roy Stone is paid 3 silver stags for his successful work on Raquinno's wagon.


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## Captain Impossible (Oct 7, 2011)

Ser Jarl sat silently on his bed, dressed for the ride ahead of him. His hands rested on his knees, his expression lost in thought. Last night's sleep had been restful after all he head been through, but he remembered fragments of a dream that trouble him. It was of an infant falling off a precipice. The knight knew it was anxiety over Lady Pallas. Laton wanted to divulge everything about the last night to Ser Patrek. The sellsword wasn't much of a concern after the night's rest. Even if everything he said was true, there was much to condemn him for. 

The issue of the pregnant lady and her child bothered him. Ser Patrek was honorable, he believed. But it seemed that Pallas' father was opposed to the idea of his daughter marrying beneath the family, and the uncle currently holding sway of the Weatherly household would not welcome this threat to his control. Either one might be tempted to end such a threat by means fair or foul. The lady, the unborn child, and her 'squire' where all in grave danger. How to protect them?

Fragments of plans drifted in his head. Locate the Septon? Convince Laton? Make some declaration at the tournament? Loughton was the planner of the family. Unfortunately, he was back at Splinterhold. What would honor dictate? Law or justice?

His eyes drifted to his bastard sword and shield. There was always trial by combat. It may come down to it.  He strapped the sword to his baldric and walked out his room.


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## muggie2 (Oct 7, 2011)

Roy vaguely noticed others coming down for breakfast, but he was more interested in the small stack of silvers that Raquinno was counting out for him.
The merchant was, predictably, not happy at having to pay, and was probably paying less than he thought it was worth, but while three silvers probably wouldn't be much for any of the others in the room, for him it would go a long way toward replenishing the meager stack of silvers he'd once had.
The payment made, he nodded respectfully to Raquinno, and went off to get himself some breakfast. At the rate the others were coming down for breakfast, he might get a chance to talk to some of the other Vantri men, especially the guards, about what sort of armor they'd recommend for him. He had been thinking about riveting plates of iron to the outside of his hard leather, but if someone could suggest something better, he'd certainly consider it. After what he'd seen the previous night, he didn't want to risk getting caught unarmored. If a knight could be cut down so quickly, what chance did a blacksmith have? He may as well use his skills and make something that could protect him better - travelling to a tourney could be as dangerous as fighting in the tourney itself. He smiled to himself. When he was younger, he'd dreamed of fighting in a tournament. He'd never dreamed that it could be this dangerous just *travelling* to a tournament.
He looked down at his plate and was surprised to see it was empty. It was lucky he'd fallen in with them at this point. He hoped it wasn't another growth spurt coming on - if it was, maybe he wouldn't even fit his armor!
He looked around the room to see who was there that might be useful to talk to.


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## DrZombie (Oct 7, 2011)

Laton comes down the stairs, yawning after a night of tossing and turning. He sees his uncle, and Ser Patrick. _Thank the Seven that that fat oaf is still asleep. That at least is one thing less to worry about. For now..._

"Ser Patrick? I'd be honored if you could be so kind as to join me and my uncle for breakfast. Somewhere quiet, preferably, for we have a few things to discuss that concern you and your Lord" He says quietly but directly when he approaches the table.

The three men wait untill the serving girl leaves their table. Laton is a bit unsure how to begin, frowning and trying to carefully pick his words.

"Let us start with the least difficult of our problems. Yesterday a sellsword attacked a knight here in the stables. We have him in custody, but it is not our place to dispense justice. The case does not seem so simple, though. The sellsword claims it was an act of vengeance after he had been wronged and betrayed by the Golden Lions. A few of my men have been trying to get the truth out of him, and seem convinced that he might have a case. Perchance he could be sent to the wall instead of being hanged. But, again, these are not our lands, and it is not our place to judge him."

He hesitates, then plunges onwards.

"Yesterday we came upon a lady and her squire. The lady had fallen of her horse and lost consciousness. But all was not as it appeared. The lady was pregnant, the squire was actually her sister-in-law dressed up as a squire to protect her. She claimed the lady married her brother in secret against the wishes of her father. Her brother, the ladies husband, was a knight barely above the stature of a hedge-knight named Weatherly. The unborn child appears to be the heir of the house. The father's uncle now rules the house, and according to the sister is hostile towards all those that might displace him. Before we knew the ladies true identity I pledged to protect her."

Laton pauses to catch his breath.

"Two complications arise. The first is that the lady in  question is the daughter of your liegelord, the Lady Palla. The second is that the interminable lecher and gossip 'Ser' Gough Crelling has gotten wind of it. I had to challenge him to a duel before he backed off yesterday."

Laton leans back in his chair, relieved now that all is out in the open.

"It stands beyond doubt that I will not renege on my word. Should the lady find no welcome at her fathers hearth after all that has transpired, I will do my best to protect her. But her father should know of this and decide what to do. "


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## Gurthngwaw (Oct 12, 2011)

Cool running water.  Few things are so relaxing.  "if only it would wash away the problems with the dirt" he said out loud to the girls splashing in the stream around him.  "You girls have it lucky, not a care in the world.  living moment to moment and one day at a time."  They look at him with huge eyes and long wagging tongues.  "lets go ladies.  The sleepy lords will soon rise and remember the troubles that come with titles."  Mhyrko swims out of the stream and wrings out his clothes before dressing and collecting his weapons.  The hounds shake off much of the water back into his clothing and the three chase each other through the woods to the inn.  Setting the hounds to watch outside, Mhyrko enters the inn and looks about to see who is already gathered.  He smiles to his family and heads to the serving wench.  "two large cuts of meat, raw. one large helping of whatever is for breakfast."  he waits for the girl to return, watching his cousins for any sign they might give of the mornings prospects.


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## Cor Azer (Oct 13, 2011)

Ser Patrek drops his forehead into his palms and tenses. Ser Laton's story would have given him a headache even if they weren't his constant companions.

"That... that is quite a tale for one short trip, Ser. I can honestly say I do not envy your last day."

He lifts his head and sighs in slight relief.

"At least one problem is easily solved. The sellsword Agorn will be taken to Heart's Home, and there he can plead whatever case he wishes to Lord Corbray. And if he wishes trial by combat, I'm sure Ser Lyn will stand against him. Lady Forlorn has not wept blood for some time."

He quaffs a large mug of beer while gathering his thoughts.

"As for the Lady Palla..."

On cue, a demure cough sounds from the hallway, where the young lady herself stands, remarkably beautiful for a woman who slept in a inn the night before. Jacelyn stands behind her just a step, casting a wary glance around the common room.

Ser Patrek eyes the lady appreciatively, and barely stops from shaking his head at her rounding belly. He glances momentarily at the maid dressed as a squire to her side, and nods, noting a few nearly-hidden, but tell-tale signs of her femininity.

For her part, Jacelyn returns his stare, and her eyes widen as she realizes the purpose of his look. She furrows her brow and flashes an angry and betrayed look at Ser Laton.

Palla assertively steps forward, hushing any response Jacelyn may have been about to make. "If it please, Sers, I should like to be a part of any discussion of my future. Jace, my squire and guardian, has thanked House Vantri for its aid, but I should like to do so myself."

She smiles pleasantly, and bows a well-practiced curtsy.


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## DrZombie (Oct 17, 2011)

"Good morning, mylady". Laton politely replies. "I have tried to explain your situation to the best of my abilities, as told me by your sister-in-law. But as main protagonist you may be able to fill in the blanks somewhat."


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## Gurthngwaw (Oct 19, 2011)

When the wench returns, Mhyrko gives her a smile and a few coins and asks her to take the breakfast up to Pate who is still silently on guard.  He then takes the meat outside to feed the hounds.  As they happily tear into their food he heads to the stables to see to the horses, nodding to whomever is now watching over the corbray groups mounts.  Mhyrko gets all their horses ready for the ride to come and washes up before returning to the inn for a small bowl of something hot for himself.  He sits by the main door and calls for some drink to wash it down with.


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## Captain Impossible (Oct 21, 2011)

Ser Jarl entered the common room, taking a seat at the table where his nephew and Ser Patrek sat and greeting them with a nod. He judged from the daggers Jacelynn was shooting out of her eyes that Laton had informed the knight of the truth. The point past, Jarl decided he had to focus on keeping the lady safe and securing her unborn child's legacy. 

He waited to listen to Lady Palla's story before planning a course of action.


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## Cor Azer (Oct 24, 2011)

"Sister-in-law?"

Jacelynn bites her lip at Palla's question. _Here it is... Does she know?_

Lady Palla Lynderly eyes her squire curiously. "I suppose there's a family resemblance, but I'd be hard-pressed to believe Jacelynn would ever allow her hair to get that tousled." She sighs, and smiles wistfully. "I'll never get the humor some knights get in mocking young squires. One of Ser Ondrew's men was fond of making the squires dress in women's smallclothes beneath their armor - to teach them to -" 

She turns away, deftly wiping away an unseen tear.

"Jace, please. Fetch us some breakfast."

Relieved to be out of the conversation's spotlight, Jacelynn wanders over to the bar to find the serving wench. _Warm eggs... bacon... anything but that cold oatmeal from on the road..._

While the meal is prepared, Jacelynn overhears snippets of Palla's explanation to the knights Laton, Jarl, and Patrek, and the third House Vantri man - Mhyrko. What little she misses, she knew already, having lived it herself. Palla and Ser Ondrew meeting at a tourney; secret trysts between the House Weatherley heir and the House Lynderly daughter. Palla's father's illness, and her brother Jon's ambitions - hoping to essentially sell off Palla in hopes of cementing an alliance with a powerful house - the Hunters or Graftons, perhaps. She tells of the kindly septon in a village that married Ser Ondrew and herself in secret - a much briefer description than Jacelynn recalls, but then, these men likely aren't as interested in tales of lace and flowers so much as steel and steed.

Jacelynn returns to the table with two breakfast servings as Palla is moving into the end of the story.

"... I... I had returned to Sunkenwood to make final preparations to leave; to join Ser Ondrew at his keep. He had a short campaign to lead against some bandits - it wasn't supposed to be difficult, but it would keep him away for a few weeks, so I had time. I left without my brother Jon's knowledge, but I did say goodbye to my father; although with his illness I'm sure he remembers naught. I'll spare you kind Sers the details, but suffice to say, I knew I was pregnant, and wanted to be safely with Ondrew before sending a raven home to my brother with my deed."

Her breath catches, a painful memory in her thoughts.

"I met Jace on the road a day out of Sunkenwood. Ser Ondrew had been killed by the bandits, and his uncle Slynn had more-or-less moved to take over the house; I would not find shelter at Squallfield, nor home again at Sunkenwood given my pregnancy. I didn't - and still don't - know where to go. With Jace's sword to guard us, we began riding south; I have a few friends in the heart of the Vale; I guess I had hoped to find someone willing to house us until after the birth."

She places a hand gently on her stomach, the signs of pregnancy just enough that the men present could believe them.

"This child will likely never see its true home. Only the old septon knows of the marriage, but with Ondrew's death - Slynn Weatherley will decry my word as some sort of Lynderly plot to steal Squallfield; I suspect Jon will fight against my claim as well - he'd be as like to claim Ser Ondrew misled me in an attempt to steal status from Lynderly; denying the marriage is the only way to keep me 'pure' for a more advantageous union."

Palla seems to gather strength from an appreciative glance at Jacelynn. "The rest I'm sure you know. During our flight, we got caught in the rainstorm and our horse tripped. I remember nothing of what happened next, but Jace tells me that Ser Laton's entourage found us and cared for us until we got to this inn. And now with a good night's sleep, my headache is lessened, and the maester says I should be fine for some easy travel."

She takes a small bite of her meal while her story is absorbed by those present.

"I don't know what to do now. I do not wish to return to Sunkenwood, but valiant though Jace is, I'm sure the young squire cannot stand against any of you knights, let along your armed men. But I have no where else to go either." She sets down her utensils, and folds her hands demurely in her lap. "A passing fancy I had was that you might escort us to the tourney at Lakelights, Ser Laton; at such a gathering I might find someone willing to aid in my plight, and remove me from the tangled mess Jace and I have dropped on your lap. It's not a small request though, I know, so I will hold no ill will against you if it you do not wish to press Ser Patrek on his own duties..."


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## Captain Impossible (Oct 24, 2011)

"Millady," Ser Jarl began. "We have sworn to protect you, and we will not abandon those oaths. We shall escort you to the tournament and vouch for your child's birthright. There is likely to be some difficulty from the Lynderlys and Weatherlys. Who was the septon who wed you? If we could find him, he would surely speak on your behalf about the marriage. That would avoid conflict and protect you."

Ser Jarl knew it was a hasty decision. But the Lady Palla needed protection and support. It would be easier for her to gain backing if one house had already backed her. Jarl considered who else could he might convince to get support. He could talk with Lord Royce, and maybe Laton could talk to Lyn Corbray, assuming they were at the tourney. And a raven would have to be sent to Splinterhold, to let Lord Loughton know what his family had stumbled into, especially if it could harm the house's relations with others.


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## Gurthngwaw (Oct 27, 2011)

Mhyrko finishes off his drink and breakfast silently listening to the lords and now lady make with the lord talk.  He wonders if the mercenary will be handed over to corbrays men and if so, how far they will get before he makes his escape.


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## muggie2 (Oct 27, 2011)

*Morning chores*

Having seen nobody in the main room that isn't eating or busy, Roy grabs his gear and heads outside. He has a look at all the people out there getting the horses and gear ready for the day's travelling. That done, he looks at the horses and gear bearing the Vantri crest or in the Vantri colors to check that it is in good shape, at least as much as he can without actually touching it. Touching would, of course, require permission.
If anything that he could fix looks to be in poor or badly worn condition, he asks the person responsible if they would give permission to fix it, or, if they can't give such permission, who is the owner of the equipment in question, that he might ask permission of them at a later point.


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## DrZombie (Nov 5, 2011)

Ser laton is a bit taken aback at the hasty decision, but opts to remain silent and see how Lady Palla and Ser Patrek respond.


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## Gurthngwaw (Nov 6, 2011)

Mhyrko finishes the last of his drink and waves the mug at the serving girl for more.  "So then, whats it to be,  good Sers?  Shall we take the lady to the tourney and let her find someone to take up her cause?  Or would you, Ser Patrek, prefer to take up this tangled skein and the responsabilities that come with it?  I know not how comfortable you are with letting us continue resolving this issue or if you feel your duty demands you do otherwise but as allies...well, im sure you know we would not let the matter reflect badly on Lord Corbrays house.


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## Gurthngwaw (Nov 6, 2011)

"Oh, by the way, does anyone know who this new face is that has been wandering about?  He looked like he wanted to assist somehow and I don't recall him from either of our parties."


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## Cor Azer (Nov 8, 2011)

Haken moves about the inn's courtyard, ensuring the House Vantri party is well underway with its preparations. He smiles warmly as he sees the eager Roy Stone pitchign in where he can.

_Boy'll fit in well_ he thinks. No Vantri ever shied away from hard work.

He beckons to Adham, and tells him to fetch Sleepy Pate. "Ser Gough's wagon looked a bit more laden than yesterday - might want to check that he didn't have any of his provisions topped up at House Vantri's expense."

He glares at Raquinno as he passes the merchant and his remaining sellswords. Merrillio bows pleasantly, but the big Dothraki and greyscale-scarred one ignore him.

He tilts his head curiously as he notes Ser Gough approaching, with his lady and her handmaid in tow. Haken is about to greet him when the rotund knight passes by, hailing the merchant.

_Best mention that to Ser Laton,_ he decides. _That'll be a friendship to watch..._

Haken enters the inn, and notes Ser Laton, Ser Jarl, and Mhyrko at a table with Ser Patrek and the Lady Palla, while the squire Jace sits just to the side.

Waiting for a lull in the conversation, Haken finally makes his way over. At Mhyrko's question, he fills him in with an aside, "New boy? Roy Stone, apprentice blacksmith; used to work in the Vantri mines. Witnessed the -" he cuts himself off with the lady at the table. "- business - last night."

The serjeant turns to address the rest of the table.

"Sers. M'lady. The train'll be ready in just under an hour." He bows to the Lady Palla. "Pardon my presumption, if the Lady and Ser are riding with us?"

Ser Patrek nods slowly. "Yes, yes, I believe we will. I've not the authority to decide the Lady Palla's fate, and have no interest in battling Ser Laton or Ser Jarl for her. I must see the sellsword Agorn to Lord Corbray at Heart's Home, and your path passes near there in any event. Strength in numbers."

He sighs heavily, obviously uncomfortable deciding matters of such weight. "Beyond Heart's Home, I cannot say. Lord Corbray will decide if he'll allow the Lady Palla to travel on to the Lakelights with you." He winces, but forces through a smile. "For what it's worth Lady Palla, I'm a romantic at heart, and hope your child's claim is upheld."

With one last swig of his drink, Ser Patrek stands. "If you'll excuse me Lady, Sers, by your serjeant's words I only have a short time to get my men ready to ride." He bows courteously to Palla, and then exits the common room.

"Dunkyll," says Palla softly after a moment.

Off unknowning looks, she continues. "Septon Dunkyll. He travels from village to village near Squallfield. He wouldn't be hard to find, but you'll need a letter from me for him to believe I sent you."

"Thank you for believing me, Sers," she adds. "It's good to see gallantry still lives in the Seven Kingdoms."


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## Captain Impossible (Nov 9, 2011)

Ser Jarl breathed a sigh of relief. "Honor bends nor breaks, Milady," he  said. "And we'll have no shortage of warriors for this leg of the  trip." Jarl stepped up from the table. "It'll be good to have a smith at  the tourney. As for the septon, we need to find him quickly. Once this  becomes known, I fear some my try to silence him. If you'll excuse us,  Milady."

Heading outside, Jarl went to check his horses and make sure they were ready for the trip.


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## DrZombie (Nov 9, 2011)

“Honor neither bends nor breaks” Laton agrees.

“Milady, it looks like we’ll be travelling together, at least for a while. You’d better get packed.” 

With a polite bow he takes his leave and heads outside.

_And now for a piece of humble pie_.

Laton goes to look for Ser Gough, and hails him when he spots him.

“Ser Gough, a bit of your time please.” Laton sighs, then continues.

“Last night I was less then polite to a fellow knight. I misunderstood your jest as an insult, and acted a bit rash. I can only offer my age and the hard travelling for my lack of restraint, and would like to apologise.”


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## Cor Azer (Nov 14, 2011)

Karlon idly recites the learned names of the flowers passing by as he rides in his wagon. Just ahead, Ser Gough regales Dalwyn of how he cowed Ser Laton again, and like a polite lady, she smiles.

The maester rolls his eyes. The Vantri heir was smart; Ser Gough is nothing if not vain, and that small act of humility was enough to make this one of the more pleasant travels in months.

Stretched in front of the maester's wagon to well behind, a neat little convoy travels down the road - Ser Patrek and his men at the front, followed by the Vantris, the Lady Palla Lynderly, her good-sister Jacelynn still disguised as Jace the squire, the murderous sellsword Agorn bound awkwardly to a horse, Ser Gough and his retainers, and the finally the Pentoshi merchant Raquinno and his sellswords at the back.

_Of course, the Vantris likely have some scouts out and about._

A shout up ahead and to the side confirms Karlon's suspicion.

A few House Vantri men emerge from the woods near the shore of a small lake. Karlon is a bit too far away to hear everything, but the wind carries a few key words - ruin, Lannister, knight, corpse.


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## DrZombie (Nov 16, 2011)

Laton rides out to meet the scouts, alert for danger, and directs sleepy pat towards the prisoner.

_At least now we'll see what that sellsword has done. I hope. The tourney is still a few days off and we have our hands more than full before even getting there._


[sblock=OOC] : the nobles have had their share of the story, time for the lower class peasants to do their share of the hard work   [/sblock]


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## muggie2 (Nov 16, 2011)

DrZombie said:


> Laton rides out to meet the scouts, alert for danger, and directs sleepy pat towards the prisoner.
> 
> _At least now we'll see what that sellsword has done. I hope. The tourney is still a few days off and we have our hands more than full before even getting there._




Roy joined Sleepy Pate as he headed toward the prisoner. If anything bad was likely to happen, now would likely be the time, when the protectors of the caravan had been peeled away from it. Well, partially peeled away, at least. In any case, if the sellsword had been lying, or if there was any attempt made to free him (or kill him, depending on circumstances) then perhaps his presence could help to forestall it. He had no illusions about his ability to stand up to the sellsword if he got free, but Sleepy Pate stood a good chance. If Roy was there to help him, perhaps that would be enough to tip the balance.
He shook the kinks out of his arms and legs, then laid his iron-bound staff across his shoulders as he walked with Pate.
"I hope you don't mind me coming with you."


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## Captain Impossible (Nov 17, 2011)

Ser Jarl struggled to keep his mouth shut as he overheard bits and pieces of Ser Gough's story. He was half tempted to charge him with his lance. Ser Jarl sincerely hoped he would get to tilt against the fat oaf. Or maybe a duel. It gave the knight no small amount of amusement imagining his rotund traveling companion having to take the black and spend his days in a frigid garrison post.

His thoughts were interrupted by the words of the scouts. Jarl gripped his lance and chased after Laton. Someone had to make sure the boy wasn't galloping into an ambush.


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## Cor Azer (Nov 20, 2011)

Agorn watches Sleepy Pate and the young man approach. The guard didn't concern him -  strong, sure, but not like to act without the Vantri heir's say so. The boy though... 

_Doesn't look like a guard._ Studying the boy more, he realizes the boy seems out of place. _The witness in the barn,_ Agorn decides.

He hears the House Vantri sarjeant Haken Stone give the boy - name of Roy - permission to accompany Pate.

"Be careful though, and mind Pate's orders."

The sellsword turns his attention to the scout Talmond reporting to Ser Laton. Distant though he is to the conversation, his excellent hearing - and knowledge of how he left Ser Wylke Lannister - allow him to fill in the hushed parts.

"... splayed out in the old courtyard of Reedrock Hall," says Talmond, describing his scouts discovery. "Banner is Lannister, although it's got several embellishments, so probably a cousin..."

_Be a surprise if Tywin even know Wylke's father's name, let alone Wylke himself,_ thinks Agorn. _But a lion is a lion._

"Mhyrko's girls seem to have the scent of the knight's horse. It wasn't traveling fast, but did wander from the ruin, so it may be a while before he finds it, if he even bothers," continues the scout.

_Too bad I couldn't have kept the horse - the destrier could have fetched more than a few dragons down at the tourney, but with my luck, someone would probably have recognized Ser Wylke's horse. Maybe one of the Vantris'll ride it with more honor than Ser Wylke._

"... courtyard's a ruin itself, but it looks like there was a short fight. The lion looks like he died on his feet - a knight's death..."

_A coward's ambush..._

"Crows and more have been at him already; probably been at least a day, so we're not like to find anyone who recognizes him. Doesn't look like any other men have been through, so the clansmen probably aren't active in the area - one of their dogs probably would have smelled it by now if they were."

Agorn turns his attention closer as Sleepy Pate and the boy pull up beside him.

"Quite an honor guard I get - Pate and a boy." He looks at Roy Stone, staring down the blacksmith. "You hid in the hay. Smart move; I probably would have thought you in league with the lions if not."


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## muggie2 (Nov 20, 2011)

Cor Azer said:


> Agorn turns his attention closer as Sleepy Pate and the boy pull up beside him.
> 
> "Quite an honor guard I get - Pate and a boy." He looks at Roy Stone, staring down the blacksmith. "You hid in the hay. Smart move; I probably would have thought you in league with the lions if not."




Roy initially ignores the words, but he thinks about them as he looks around the area. it seemed secure, no signs of anyone coming to rescue the sellsword, or otherwise take advantage of the splitting of the protectors. Worth being wary though, just in case.
Without looking at Agorn, he replies.
"Cold, wet, asleep in the hay. Woke up to the argument, and sat up just in time to see you cave in the stableboy's head. By the time I was awake and warm enough to do anything, you were cutting down an unarmored old knight who was just there trying to protect an innocent stableboy. Me, I was near as naked, when it came to a fight. Armor in my pack, and only leather to boot, staff out of my reach, and a dagger alone is suicide in a swordfight. So, yeah, I stayed in the hay. What would you have done in my place?"
During the entire time he talks, Roy keeps moving slightly and looking around. He is on edge. A conversation with the weasel is a good way of keeping himself centered.


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## Gurthngwaw (Nov 21, 2011)

"Perhaps I should go retrieve the horse?  It may hold answers less biased than the sellswords explaination." Mhyrko says to the sers as they ride up to the scouts.  "maybe even clues to his true identity?"


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## Captain Impossible (Nov 22, 2011)

"A good idea Mhyrko. But we shouldn't wander too far afield. Even without the sellsword, this place holds danger," Jarl replied to his cousin. Jarl glanced down briefly at the corpse. His curiosity satisfied, he returned his gaze to their surroundings. He wondered who used to call this place home, and what befell them. He would ask the Maester later. But for now, he had to be alert.


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## Cor Azer (Dec 5, 2011)

Haken is the first to note Mhyrko's return leading the gold-and-crimson blanketed destrier, his girls following obediently at his side.

The animal seems a bit wary, but remains calm in the master-of-hounds presence at least.

The sarjeant smiles and shakes his head. _How animals know who's an animal person, I'll never know. Maybe a question for the maester some day..._

He looks across the one-time courtyard to the sellsword being guarded by Pate and the blacksmith boy. Paying particular attention to the nearby horses, he notes them shying away from the captive. _Not an animal person it seems. Probably why he cut the horse loose._

A search of the destrier's saddlebags reveals little in the way of identifying objects - mostly items that any knight would carry and the rest obscure items of a likely personal meaning, but nothing that would speak to the Lannister's knight's name.

"Maester Karlon took a look at the banner, Sers," says Haken as he approaches Ser Laton and Ser Jarl. "Definitely a Lannister. Ser Wylke Lannister. Probably wouldn't have ever heard of a knight that young before - even a Lannister one - as he's pretty well removed from Tywin's brood, but he's been in the Vale for a year or two and had been seen at a few tourneys. Actually feasted at Upfalls one time, although to his eternal distress, Ser Gough was not in attendance with his family. Likely a good thing he didn't get any of his petty schemes funded by lion gold."

Toeing his boot in some overgrown shrubs, something catches the guard's eye. He reaches down, and picks up an empty leather coin purse, expertly embroidered with a golden lion. "Robbed?" he wonders, holding it out for the Vantri knights.

He tosses a glance over to the sellsword.


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## DrZombie (Dec 5, 2011)

Laton rides just out of swordreach of the sellsword.
"Vengeance, or armed robbery poorly disguised as vengeance? Better to ask for the black, sellsword, for you'll loose at least a hand for robbery. Branding maybe, if the Lord feels mercifull."
He waits for a second.
"Or do you have any other songs to sing?"


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## Captain Impossible (Dec 7, 2011)

Ser Jarl reflected on the situation. A lie of vengeance to hide a robbery. Or a robbery to throw the scent off the true purpose of murder? Perhaps mere opportunity. The idea the sellsword would loot a man he'd murdered for reasons of the heart was well within the realm of possible.

Still, the situation gave some credence to the mercenary's story. It was unlikely for a noble who could afford a destrier to travel without companions. Whether the Lannister was the mastermind or target of the ambush was the question.

"Mhyrko," Jarl said as he looked at the ground for footprints, "can you make anything of this?"


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## Cor Azer (Dec 14, 2011)

"I've done many things in my life I'm not proud of," Agorn fixes his gaze on Ser Laton, but his memories float back to that young boy on the bluffs.

"I suspect I'll do more in the future." _Their banners will burn..._

"But don't ever accuse me of robbery, boy. I'll not have lion gold. Not when I want their -"

He pauses.

_What was that?_

_Again._

_Seven bugger me, I hope that kennelmaster has good ears too... They'll not listen to my warn-_

"CLANSMEN!"

At Ser Jarl's warning, steel is exposed as sword and spear and mace and axe are swung to the ready.

A branch a few feet past the sellsword's mount cracks, sprouting a newly delivered axe.

A dull roar rolls out of the woods surrounding the ruin as several dozen shabbily dressed clansmen erupt into the clearing.

The sellsword starts pulling at his bindings, trying to get free, or at least out of such an exposed position.

He can hear the bastard Haken ordering men into position around the pregnant lady and her squire. Ser Gough squealing for help, but with the wherewithal to make it sound like it's for his ladies and maester. Ser Patrek's cries of "Ravensblood! Ravensblood! Heart's Home!"

"Blood Goats!" is the return battle cry, as the clansmen smash into the House Vantri forces.

"Free me!" shouts Agorn, hoping Laton, or Pate, or even the boy Roy can hear him over the rising din of battle. "Let me fight!"

"Just so!" In the distance, the captive sellsword sees his one-time comrades defending Raquinno's wagon. 

_Six clansmen there,_ he counts, trying to get a hold of the situation. _Two more on the kennelmaster. Big one with the spear looks like he's moving on Ser Jarl._ He winces as a heavy stone smashes splinters from a nearby tree. _At least they're not good slingers. Six coming this way... and just Laton, Pate, and the boy in front of me... Seven hells..._ "Free me!"









*OOC:*


Ok... it's kind of a big skirmish, but for the most part fairly localized into several smaller ones. Barring your intervention, the parts with clansmen vs Raquinno's men, vs Ser Patrek and Ser Gough's men, and vs. Haken and the guards around Lady Palla and Jacelyn will mostly be scripted out by me. What you need to worry about are your own, smaller skirmishes...

Mhryko and Ser Jarl vs 3 clansmen (one a rather large fellow)
Ser Laton, Roy, and Sleepy Pate vs six clansmen (haven't heard from ShaggySpellsword in a while, so Pate may be NPCed in the combat).
Robin (if jackslate pops in, is with Haken's group, and I'll start rolling for that combat, otherwise he'll be NPCed as well).

Edit: initiative is easy, everyone gets to go before the clansmen. Don't worry about acting in order; just everyone go once before the clansmen.

For those without the rules, you can generally take either 2 Lesser Actions or 1 Greater Action per round. Lesser actions include making an attack, moving, aiming a ranged weapon. Greater Actions include charging, attacking multiple foes, passing, readying an action. The other caveat is that barring spending of a Destiny point, only one action can be an attack (even though you get 2 Lesser Actions). There's a decent size list of actions, so I dunno if I'll type them out or not, but if there's anything in particular you're looking for, ask away.

Feel free to narrate the results of your attacks after you post your actions/rolls.







[sblock=Blood Goat Big Man]Blood Goat Big Man
Combat Defense: 4
Armor Rating: 5 (hides)
Health: 12[/sblock]

[sblock=Blood Goats]Blood Goats (several)
Combat Defense: 4
Armor Rating: 5 (hides)
Health: 6[/sblock]


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## Captain Impossible (Dec 14, 2011)

As the cry of 'Blood Goats!' roars from the mob pouring out of the woods, Ser Jarl turns his horse to face them, his eyes locking on the large clansman. He spurs his rounsey forward, charging the brute with his lance aimed towards the barbarian's chest.









*OOC:*


I spend a greater action to charge the Blood Goat Big Man. If my knowledge of the rules are accurate, my normal war lance attack is 5D+1B. since I'm attacking an unmounted foe, I get +1B. Since I'm charging, I'm -1D, making my final roll 4D+2B. 

Charging gives me +2 to weapon damage, but I'm not sure if this is applied before or after I multiply for degrees of success. Having beaten the score by 16, I score 4 degrees of success, meaning I deal either 34 or 40 damage. After subtracting 5 damage for his hide armor, he's still pretty dead  (war lances have the Vicious quality).  Cor, let me know if my calculations are up snuff. 

Also, I have to make an Athletics check of 9 or higher to see if I lose the lance in the charge, and followed by an Athletics check of 8 (3+opponent's AR) to pull the lance free. I don't know if this counts as another action or is part of the attack with the lance. I'll roll now, and if it's supposed to be another action, I'll dock myself from the next round.







With violent fury, the seasoned knight buries his lance into the Blood Goat Big Man, piercing out the back end of the raider and dropping the clansman in a bloodied heap. Ser Jarl, with an ease learned from years of fighting clansman, pulls the lance free, causing more damage to the savage's corpse. The Vantri's head swivels back and forth quickly, looking for his enemies' response and for more targets to tilt against.


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## muggie2 (Dec 14, 2011)

Cor Azer said:


> A dull roar rolls out of the woods surrounding the ruin as several dozen shabbily dressed clansmen erupt into the clearing.
> 
> "Blood Goats!" is the battle cry, as the clansmen smash into the House Vantri forces.
> 
> ...




Roy can hear the sellsword saying something behind him, but somehow the words make no sense to him as he focuses on the oncoming clansmen. Somehow, the situation almost reminds him of a tavern brawl he was involved in once, back at the mines. Then, all he had was fists and clothes. And no pants. He'd lost them at the gaming table. At least this time he had a staff and some armor.  
He laughs at the memory, and, still laughing, thrusts his staff into the belly of one of the on-rushing clansmen.

The clansman tries to dodge the thrust, and manages to deflect it partially off course. But partially was not enough. The impact penetrates the armor and almost fells him in a single blow.
[Damage penetrating the armor = 5 points]
Almost, but not quite. After taking the blow, the clansman is still upright and his attacker is in front of him.


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## DrZombie (Dec 14, 2011)

"Honour for House Vantri" Laton shouts and attacks the nearest clansman, mace swinging in a high arc and and burying itself in the clansmans' head with a sickening crunch. He deftly knees his horse and it moves away from the combat, giving him room to maneuver.









*OOC:*


Attack 4+2B (1 mace 1 mounted) :four degrees of success= 12 dmg, -5 armor = 7 dmg. move 8 yards


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## Cor Azer (Dec 28, 2011)

Jacelynn had never really heard a man die before. Not violently. Not in battle. Over the din of the joined battle though, she heard a deep roar waver and change to pitched wail as Ser Jarl's lance pierced the Blood Goat's chest. Thankfully it ends quickly, or at least is drowned out by pounding hooves, battle cries, and the clang of steel on steel.

With a a silent thankful prayer to the Mother and the Warrior for all the House Vantri and House Corbray men around, she holds her sword defensively in front of her, a scared young maid as a last line of defense for her goodsister.

Although the clansmen's charge is savage, it is met with calm experience.

She sees the young blacksmith slam his staff into a clansman's belly, but though staggered, the Blood Goat keeps his feet, and tries to fell the boy in front of him like an old pine, while another swings for his head.

Instinctively, the young maid turns her head, praying good fortune for him. The gods are not kind to her, as everywhere she looks, battle rages.

At the treeline, Jacelynn sees two scrawnier Blood Goat clansmen spinning their slings and cursing the knight who skewered their bulky companion. 

Ser Laton's championing cry grabs her attention, and she sees the heir of House Vantri move away from the felled clansman. No, not felled. The savage brute tosses his smashed helmet aside, and part-staggers, part-charges after the young knight - defiantly continuing the fight that should have ended. On his heels, a more alert clansman follows cautiously, evidently using his enraged companion as fodder.









*OOC:*


Boy, Christmas really does a kicking to my posting rate. Sorry about that.

For those who didn't respond to the last update, the current status of your skirmishes are "vague". And by that, I mean they'll be cleared up when necessary - either by you responding, someone else attempting to interact with you, or by the combat ending and fiat deciding where you're at.

Got some rolls vs Roy, Ser Jarl, and Ser Laton coming up, and results will be edited in here.

Vs Roy - Calculated Roy's combat defense as 9 (3 Agility, 5 Athletics, 3 Awareness, -2 Hard Leather), for two hits of 1 success each, 2 damage each, reduced to 0 by the hard leather's armor rating.

Vs Jarl - Two stones clatter off his shield

Vs Laton - Hit with 1 success (forgot the -1 from his injury, but a 9 still hits), 4 damage (assuming you don't ride around in full plate; if you do, then it'd be reduced to 0)

You guys can narrate the effects of the attacks on you.

Game stuff:
My understanding is that pulling the lance free is a free action as part of the charge.
Big clansman... oh so dead.
Clansman vs Roy - hurt, but standing. Second clansman vs Roy - unharmed
Clansman vs Laton - takes an injury, reduces damage by Endurance (2), still up with 1 health, takes a -1 penalty to all rolls. Second clansman - aiding first







[sblock=Blood Goats]Blood Goats (several)
Combat Defense: 4
Armor Rating: 5 (hides)
Health: 6 (Clansman 1 vs Roy is at 1/6, Clansman 5 vs Laton is at 1/6 with 1 injury)[/sblock]


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## muggie2 (Dec 28, 2011)

Roy rotates his neck slightly, still laughing, as he looks at the two clansmen. The one he'd hit had managed a nice shot to his side, and the one he'd been unable to hit had put in a nice head shot. On him, in mere hard leather. Okay, he'd been able to twist his body to avoid most of the damage, but still. He'd survived!

That was a good enough reason to laugh, even if it wasn't also unsettling the clansmen. That was a bonus. He moves toward the clansman he'd hit before, then turns and swings the quarterstaff hard at the other clansman, who'd started to go for the shot. Sucker! This was just the way it had gone in tavern brawls back at the mines except here he could use his strength. Nobody ever expected a big guy like him to be fast or clever.

He swings... and scores a solid hit on the second clansman, who was obviously not expecting it. It hits with a meaty thwack.
[3 degrees of success, 10 points of damage after subtracting armor]
He steps back and rotates to smile at the first, already battered clansman.


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## Captain Impossible (Dec 29, 2011)

Ser Jarl raises his shield from the oncoming barrage. The rocks thud against the wood of his shield. "Someone cut that sellsword loose!" he barks, thinking that keeping Agorn tied up isn't worth other dying. Looking around, the knight sees Ser Laton and Roy outnumbered. Ignoring the slingers, Ser Jarl charges the Blood Goat hiding behind the injured one.









*OOC:*


Four degree of success vs. Blood Goat = 40 damage - 5 for leather armor = 35 net damage.
Ser Jarl holds on to the lance, and removes it with two degrees of success, inflicting an additional 8 damage.







The Blood Goat turns to the sound of hooves in time to Ser Jarl spear him. With a twist, Ser Jarl frees his lance, glowering at the remaining clansmen.


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## DrZombie (Jan 5, 2012)

_
THINK YOU IDIOT
This is a battle, not a tourney.
Always make sure your enemy is dead before turning your back on him.
_

The axe head hits the upper legplate with a resounding clang, leaving a bruise but nothing more.

_And never take your helm off_

The backhand swing takes the clansman full in the face but continues onwards, showering ser Jarl in a crimson rain of teeth and small bone fragments.

"Vantri for Honor!"

He maneuvers his horse to get a clear overview of battle.









*OOC:*


 3 degrees of succes= 9 dmg -5 armor - 2 toughness = 2 damage
He's wearing half-plate, which is something wearable on a horse when you're in hostile territory. He doesn't have full plate, and wouldn't wear that unless certain of battle.

Lesser action attack, lesser action look around and make a tactical survey. If he believes the attack can be repulsed without freeing the sellsword, he will counterdemand his uncle's orders.


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## Cor Azer (Jan 20, 2012)

A gap in the swarm of clansmen before him gives Haken a moment to breath. A stiff kick sends the dead one before him to the side so the sarjeant can step up on a stray rock for a better view to look for his lords.

_There! Still standing, thank the Warrior_

He smiles with grim satisfaction as Ser Jarl runs down another of the Blood Goats, and cocks his head curiously when he hears laughter.

_Roy?_ He stares at the young blacksmith, enjoying the skirmish perhaps too much. _Strong lad, but maybe needs to take things more serious._

With the throng of clansmen lessening, Haken sees most the Vantri entourage holding their own. He hears Ser Laton belay some order Ser Jarl gave, but over the din, Haken hadn't heard the original order._Doesn't matter, I imagine. Bloody goats seem to be in retreat._

A few stragglers remain - whether for blood lust or brazen bravado or simple bad luck Haken can't say.

He hops down from his rock and hustles over the the side of the wagon. He grabs the shoulder of the clansmen trying to climb into the wagon, and hauls him back, flinging him to the ground. The heel of his boot breaks the downed man's jaw, and then Haken's steel finishes his howling.

"They're falling back. Fynn, Derring - drive them off. Ollip, check the fallen. Cam?"

"He's down, Sarjeant. Bleeding pretty bad."

"Fetch the maester."

Leaving his men to their tasks, Haken makes his way towards Laton's horse, where the heir of House Vantri is surveying the end of the battle. "A poor ambush it would seem, m'lord. Desperate, perhaps, to attack without overwhelming numbers. You want any prisoners?"









*OOC:*


Yeah, so... um... the clansmen seem quite outmatched here, so they're running away. There are still a few if you wanted any captives for questioning, but for the most part, you need not worry about extra combat.

Should we ever get to the tourney, perhaps stiffer opponents may be found.


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## muggie2 (Jan 20, 2012)

As the first, already battered clansman, sees Roy rotate back to face him after first poleaxing the clansman's comrade, his eyes fill with fear.
Roy stops laughing. He nods his head in the direction of the forest.
"Get outa here, lad. The butcher's bill's already high enough, and I've no wish to add you to it."
He shifts his staff to an obviously defensive, not offensive, position, and flicks it toward the forest again. The clansman doesn't need any more urging, and runs for it, still clutching his ribs from the first hit.
As soon as the clansman is obviously on his way and not returning, Roy looks around the group to see how the rest of the battle went.


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## Captain Impossible (Jan 26, 2012)

Ser Jarl sees the clansmen turn and flee, their ambush having failed horribly. Ser Jarl positions himself between the caravan and the fleeing barbarians, on guard in case the retreat is a feint. He hears the someone shouting for the maester, and silently asks the Warrior to ward off the Stranger.


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## DrZombie (Jan 31, 2012)

"We're having our hands full enough with the one we have. Make sure he hasn't gotten hold of a weapon. String up any surving clansmen." Laton says with a hard voice while he looks at the maester tending to one of his household. "These bandits will get no mercy from us."


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## Cor Azer (Feb 11, 2012)

Ser Patrek trudges across the ruins of the keep, unmoved by the clansmen being executed. He hears a few of the Vantri men congratulating the young blacksmith on his efforts during the battle, and more praising Ser Jarl's riding.

His headache was returning. Gone when the blood started pumping as battle began, now that he was cooling down, he could feel the headache fighting to retake his attention.

_Have to finish this quickly._

He sees the hefty House Vantri guard - Adham? Something like that - tightening the bonds on the murderous sellsword. The prisoner had demanded a weapon, but despite his struggles, had not gotten free.

"Ser Laton. A word please," says Patrek. His voice is even, but the hint of seriousness causes the few nearby men to step back, giving the two privacy.

"Your men are loyal and brave, and they fought well today. A testament to your House." Despite his congratulatory words, his voice remains even.

"Although these clansmen deserved their visit with the Stranger, remember that you are on Corbray lands now. I have no doubt that you and your men could enforce your will - you clearly out number my retainers and me - but I would hope a man of honor would be better than that. In the future, I would appreciate it if you asked my leave - as envoy of Lord Corbray - before acting."

He winces, and presses a palm to his left temple.

_By the Seven, these headaches are going to be the death of me._


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## muggie2 (Feb 11, 2012)

Cor Azer said:


> Ser Patrek trudges across the ruins of the keep, unmoved by the clansmen being executed. He hears a few of the Vantri men congratulating the young blacksmith on his efforts during the battle, and more praising Ser Jarl's riding.




Roy is rather embarrassed by the praise he is receiving. He is no stranger to fighting, nobody who worked in the mines was a stranger to that. Hardworking men liked to drink, hard drinking men liked to fight. Mostly it was just brawling, fists, tankards, and an occasional chair, and sometimes, though rarely, if things got really serious, someone might pull a knife. Dangerous, that. Anything short of that could be excused as high spirits - pay repair costs, pay a fine, whatever. Knives, though, were serious weapons. Law took a dim view of that. Roy had always been careful to avoid that kind of thing.
He'd never killed anyone.
Still hadn't. He'd put the clansman he'd hit down for the count, but still alive. Now they were going to hang the clansman, and it was orders of the Vantri. His lord. His house. But somehow, being congratulated for it felt, well, hollow.
He'd never killed before. Nobody he'd had fought had ever died. Until now.
Roy tries to make his way to Ser Jarl. He'd seen him fight, not much, but he'd caught the movement from the corner of his eye while he'd been fighting. No time to watch during the fight, but he'd have had to be blind to miss it completely, and afterwards, well, the bodies on the ground were testament to his skills.
Ser Jarl is surrounded by men praising his actions and skills. And justly so - his actions had all but ended the attack, and his skills could be judged by the bodies. Roy thought he could see some reservations in Ser Jarl's eyes though, some doubt. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not. In any case, he needed to talk to him. He waited for a gap in the talk, a chance to get a word in.
"Ser Jarl, when you have time, can I speak to ye?"


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## DrZombie (Feb 11, 2012)

Laton bows his head.

"My sincere apologies, Ser Patrek. I fear the anger at seeing one of my men wounded by these bandits has gotten the better of me. I intended no slight to you or your house, and I stand corrected. I will give over custody of the sellsword to your men as well."

He gets of his horse, and cuts off a cloth from the clothes of one of the dead clansmen to wipe away the worst of the blood and gore from his mace and armor before it dries out.


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## Captain Impossible (Feb 17, 2012)

Ser Jarl acknowledges the praise of the others sincerely, but without enthusiasm. The battle was not the glorious clash sang about. The clansmen attacked like cowards, and the response from the caravan had been overwhelming. Running down men on foot from the advantage of horseback was no great feat. Something that isn't nostalgia or sadness reaches back to that day at Gulltown. A real battle. _Glorious _battle. Jarl wonders if he would ever get another chance. 

Jarl stirs from his thoughts as Roy addresses him. He dismounts to be at eye level with Roy, whispering "Thank you, friend," to his rounsey as he does so. The last step to the ground is a little harder than expected, even with just his armor's padding. 

"What is it, Roy?


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## muggie2 (Feb 17, 2012)

Captain Impossible said:


> Ser Jarl acknowledges the praise of the others sincerely, but without enthusiasm. The battle was not the glorious clash sang about. The clansmen attacked like cowards, and the response from the caravan had been overwhelming. Running down men on foot from the advantage of horseback was no great feat. Something that isn't nostalgia or sadness reaches back to that day at Gulltown. A real battle. _Glorious _battle. Jarl wonders if he would ever get another chance.
> 
> Jarl stirs from his thoughts as Roy addresses him. He dismounts to be at eye level with Roy, whispering "Thank you, friend," to his rounsey as he does so. The last step to the ground is a little harder than expected, even with just his armor's padding.
> 
> "What is it, Roy?




Roy looks a little embarrassed.
"I don't know if this is the right time, Ser. It's just, well, I've never, actually, you know..." 
His voice trails off a bit. He coughs, and looks rather sheepishly at Ser Jarl.
"I was scared, Ser. I was laughing so that they wouldn't see it. And somehow, during the fight, the laughing became real. They just didn't seem to be a threat. But now the ones who lived, we're killing them. And, I've never, well, killed anyone before."
He waves at the others around them.
"I mean, is it always like this, Ser? It's a victory, but, somehow, it just doesn't feel like much of a victory. I put one down myself, and I'm just a blacksmith, not a real fighting man. I know we've protected the innocent, and our Lord, not that _he_ really needed any protecting, but..."
He trails off again, and looks at Ser Jarl, as if expecting him to say something that made sense of it all.


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## Cor Azer (Feb 23, 2012)

Maester Karlon gives the wounded soldier a small wooden wedge wrapped in leather. "Bite. Hard."

As the man grunts, the maester shifts his leg, straightening it so that bones may set properly. The wooden stick muffles the agonizing groan. _At least this man will live,_ thinks the maester, pausing in his work to look over to the fallen clansmen. _A pity such folk couldn't be more civilized. If they'd only bend the knee, they'd find respite in the Vale._

He stands, and waves over two other soldiers. "He cannot walk on that leg; carry him to my wagon, and I'll watch over him there."

"You're not wasting my supplies on a dying man, are you, Karlon?"

With a heavy sigh, the maester turns to Ser Gough. "Dying men rarely groan like that, Ser." _Which you'd know, were you ever truly in battle._

Disregarding any look the rotund knight may be giving him, Karlon finishes gathering his materials, and begins walking back to his wagon. Lady Palla gives him a reassuring smile as he passes, but the young squire Jacelynn - no, she was still dressed as Jace - did not see him; her focus was still on the battlefield. _Don't trouble yourself, child. They died as befit their raiding ways,_ he thinks, but merely pats her knee as he continues on.

"Ready to march!"

The call echoes around the ruins, and so takes a few minutes for the maester to place it as Ser Patrek rather than Ser Laton. "Wes," he asks as he approaches Ser Gough's squire. "Has Ser Laton been injured? Why is Ser Patrek commanding?"

The young Crelling boy shrugs. "I don't think so, Maester. The gossip is that there was an argument; that Ser Patrek invoked the name of Lord Corbray. Ser Laton deferred to him - on Corbray lands, at least."

_An argument? Unlikely._ thinks Karlon, recalling the calm demeanor of both men. _But perhaps a difference of opinions._

"Very well then, Wes." He directs the squire up into the driving seat of the wagon. "You'll direct the mules. I need to ride in the back and watch over the wounded soldier.

"Yes, Maester."

After administering a small dose of milk of the poppy, the soldier was resting peacefully. Karlon sits back as the wagon began to move, and the sounds filtering into the wagon are those of a caravan, marching down a simple road. His eyes begin to droop, as the rhythmic rocking of the wagon begins to sap the strength from his already tired bones.

"SER!"

Karlon wakes with a start. _What?_ "Oh my..." _How long have I - _

"Ser Patrek!"

"Fetch the maester!"

Karlon is already stepping out of his wagon when Ser Patrek's squire Joff comes running. It is later in the day - the Corbray banners of Heart's Home can be seen flying above the forest canopy on a distant hill. The maester shakes his head to regain focus - the squire is babbling.

"Ser Patrek... he... just collapsed! He fell from his horse!"

The maester follows Joff back to the fallen knight, through a throng of people that cannot seem to decide whether to thin or gather.

He frowns as he stands above the knight, noticing the lack of chest movement. With practiced thoroughness, he kneels beside the man, but his examination is brief.

"I can do nothing for him. Ser Patrek is dead, my lords."









*OOC:*


Ok, trying to move this along. I can certainly see why GRRM gets so bogged down - it's really easy to keep introducing plot threads, but sometimes, they gotta be trimmed down. When you respond, feel free to either be in "the present" or "in the past" - during the ride or finishing off something back at the ruins. That's why I left the trip mostly vague.


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## Captain Impossible (Feb 29, 2012)

"Battle frequently allows time to think," Jarl says to the boy. "I've fought many a foe. It's not what the tales would have you believe, is it?" The truth was that sometimes it was. But no one ever sand about raids or executions. 

Ser Jarl considers having some words with Ser Gough, but the moment is interrupted by the commotion at Ser Patrek's collapse. Jarl runs towards the commotion, but by the time he arrives, Ser Patrek is already dead.

"By the Seven!" Jarl screams, stunned at the turn of events.


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## DrZombie (Mar 5, 2012)

_Like the crows, trouble rarely flies alone_

laton doesn't waste his breath asking if the Maester is sure.

"We'll deal with this at the castle. Get him on the wagon."

He turns his warhorse and adresses Ser Patrek's men.

"Let's walk him home in a manner befitting a knight of his stature. Joff, drape the flag over you late master and lead the horse. We'll take over the prisoner so you can form an honor guard for your master."

He lets the men form up and directs his entourage to follow after the carriage, leaving the Corbray men to lead their late master to the castle.

While the last procession of Ser Patrek is formed he has a quiet word with sleepy Pat and the guards, well in earshot of the sellsword.

"Make sure this one doesn't disturb the final march of Ser Patrek. If he so much as tries to speak or makes a move that might look like he's trying to escape you may strike him down."


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## Cor Azer (Mar 8, 2012)

Jacelynn had seen castles before, but she couldn't recall having ever seen one that looked as sad as Heart's Home. The large Corbray banners flew at half-mast, one last sign of respect for the dead Ser Patrek Ravensblood. A rider had brought word ahead to the castle, and twenty men had ridden out to meet Ser Laton's honour guard and escort the entourage to the Corbray home.

Riding under the gatehouse, she couldn't help but look to her good-sister Palla, and wonder what this turn meant for their sojourn. Ser Patrek had been sent to find Palla, and he had before his death. Would Ser Laton take up the cause? Ser Gough? Lord Lyonnel himself, as like as any.

Mournful smallfolk were scattered in the yard, pausing in their duties to offer Ser Patrek final respect as he was carried by. _He was well respected, well loved._

There was little pomp and pageantry in their arrival. Lord Lyonnel met Ser Laton, Ser Jarl, Ser Gough, and Lady Palla at the far end of the courtyard, polite greetings were offered, and then stewards began showing the guests to their rooms while the septon and his aides began preparing Ser Patrek's body for its final rest.

Jacelynn makes a quick survey of her chamber, but there is little to see. It is a room fit for a squire, not a lady. A stiff bed, a small chamberpot, an empty wash bin, a view of the eastern side of the courtyard - the morning sun would be more like to wake sleepy-headed squires early. She stares at the chamberpot and sighs. _This will be awkward._

_No matter,_ she decides. _My place is at Palla's side._

She heads back into the hallway, and begins navigating the spiraling corridors. As she nears Palla's chamber, she hears the distinct clack of a fine leather boot on stone. She slows her pace, not wanting to disturb anyone of note, but cannot stop her curiosity. _It pays to know what's going on..._

A peak around the corner shows Lord Lyonnel at the door to Ser Laton's room, although she cannot tell who is in the room with him.

"Greetings, Ser Laton," announces the Lord. "I apologize for disturbing you as you settle in, but I need only a moment of your time. Neither the open courtyard earlier, nor supper tonight will be proper places for such a question, but I must ask you - what do you know of Ser Patrek's death? This is not a formal investigation - " With trepidation, he adds. "-yet." He pauses, and considers his words carefully. "It has come to my attention that you had some serious words with Ser Patrek a short time before his death, and it has been suggested that his sudden passing was... "* He struggles to find the right word. "Was consistent with poison."

Poison. The weapon of women. Surely, Palla didn't - But no, where would she - Nonsense... The flurry of thoughts causes her to miss the response from inside the room.

"I make no accusation, Ser. But I expect one to come, so you best be prepared. My brother Lyn is not as level-headed as I, and he very well may ask for blood for his cousin."

The lord takes a respectful step back and begins to turn to leave, but pauses again. "Oh, and your prisoner - the sellsword - has been secured in our dungeon. he shall be dealt with shortly. My thanks in that matter. Even if Lord Tywin isn't fond of his distant nephew, he has a reputation for not looking fondly on those who harm what he considers his. I hope this Agorn's death may appease him."

He bows his head sharply, but politely. "Now, unless you have immediate need of me, I have other duties to attend. I hope you can make it to dinner in the hall tonight."*


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## muggie2 (Mar 8, 2012)

Cor Azer said:


> There was little pomp and pageantry in their arrival. Lord Lyonnel met Ser Laton, Ser Jarl, Ser Gough, and Lady Palla at the far end of the courtyard, polite greetings were offered, and then stewards began showing the guests to their rooms while the septon and his aides began preparing Ser Patrek's body for its final rest.



Roy takes his place amongst the Vantri men as they are shown to their places - far humbler than those of the guests, as befits their station in life. Once settled in, he asks after the castle smiths, and makes his way to the smithy. He introduces himself to the senior castle smith.
"If I may ask of you, might I have access to your forge. I'm afraid my heavy hammer ended up at the bottom of a river after a..." he coughs "...well, a major misjudgement over the depth and speed of the water."
He has the grace to look rather embarrassed, as well he might.
"I rather need to make a replacement, as we are on the way to a tournament, and I have no doubts that I'll be making armor repairs in the course of the tournament. I have no wish to impose on my lord to replace something which was lost due to my own blunder, and I'd similarly not wish to impose on you, but if you could give me access to the forge so I can craft a replacement, I'd be glad to help you with anything I can."


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## Captain Impossible (Mar 14, 2012)

Ser Jarl fussed with his items in his room, more interested in keeping the thoughts out of his head than actual organizing. _Damn it all._ _This will look bad, especially if this becomes an issue with Palla. Calm yourself. Corbray sponsored Laton, he knows treachery isn't in the Vantri blood. _Ser Jarl looks down upon his hands, his mind drifting to his skewering of the clansmen earlier that day. He gets up, entering the hallway to join the others.


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## Cor Azer (Mar 27, 2012)

*OOC:*


I suspect one of my reasons for being so poor with my frequency of posts was this idea I had to have every post be from some particular NPC's PoV. That's going to have to end I think, although I'll try to continue where possible.









muggie2 said:


> Roy takes his place amongst the Vantri men as they are shown to their places - far humbler than those of the guests, as befits their station in life. Once settled in, he asks after the castle smiths, and makes his way to the smithy. He introduces himself to the senior castle smith.
> "If I may ask of you, might I have access to your forge. I'm afraid my heavy hammer ended up at the bottom of a river after a..." he coughs "...well, a major misjudgement over the depth and speed of the water."
> He has the grace to look rather embarrassed, as well he might.
> "I rather need to make a replacement, as we are on the way to a tournament, and I have no doubts that I'll be making armor repairs in the course of the tournament. I have no wish to impose on my lord to replace something which was lost due to my own blunder, and I'd similarly not wish to impose on you, but if you could give me access to the forge so I can craft a replacement, I'd be glad to help you with anything I can."




The smith eyes you up, although under his gaze you feel more like horseflesh than an apprentice smith.

"More 'an a forge you'd need, no? Wood for the shaft, some metal for the head? You carrying all that with you?"

He shakes his head and turns away. "I don't have time for every boy who wanders in here thinking he's a smith."









*OOC:*


The smith isn't exactly friendly, but you can still try a Persuasion roll if you wanted to press your case.


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## Cor Azer (Mar 27, 2012)

Captain Impossible said:


> Ser Jarl fussed with his items in his room, more interested in keeping the thoughts out of his head than actual organizing. _Damn it all._ _This will look bad, especially if this becomes an issue with Palla. Calm yourself. Corbray sponsored Laton, he knows treachery isn't in the Vantri blood. _Ser Jarl looks down upon his hands, his mind drifting to his skewering of the clansmen earlier that day. He gets up, entering the hallway to join the others.




Further down the hallway, Ser Gough and his lady exit another room. He looks at Ser Jarl, and a faint trace of contempt crosses his eyes. He snorts in derision, and then turns to leave, heading towards the great hall.

Dawlyn lets her gaze dwell upon the Vantri knight for a bit longer, but it's expressionless.

"Milady," calls out Hannah, stepping out of the room after the Braavosi woman pauses. The maid-in-waiting hands a small bracelet to the lady, and then retreats back into the room.


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## muggie2 (Apr 5, 2012)

Cor Azer said:


> The smith eyes you up, although under his gaze you feel more like horseflesh than an apprentice smith.
> 
> "More 'an a forge you'd need, no? Wood for the shaft, some metal for the head? You carrying all that with you?"
> 
> He shakes his head and turns away. "I don't have time for every boy who wanders in here thinking he's a smith."




Roy isn't particularly surprised by the surliness of the smith.
"Metal I have, though it's in smaller pieces suitable for armor repair rather than a single piece. Now, if I wanted to make metal scales it'd be perfect. For a single piece, like the head of a hammer, well, I could heat the pieces 'til they melted into a single mass, but that'd be wasteful of fuel, as ye know, and not so good for the metal either. If I just weld the pieces together, they'd be good enough, but if I'm going to be carrying it and using it, I don't want "good enough", I want good. And that means a single piece.
Now, I have a portable forge of me own, and can do smaller pieces myself, if you have any that need to be done. What I can't do with it is craft a full-size heavy hammer. For that I need a full size forge."
He shrugs.
"I've worked the mines, I've smelted me own iron from ore, and I've done m'time as an apprentice smith, making everything that was needed. Pick heads, axe heads, hammers, nails for boots and mine-shaft supports. Daggers and knives, yes. Never learned swordsmithing, though, 'cause there was no need for swords in the mines. So ye can make yer choice "No", if ye wish, an' do it all yersel'. Or ye can let me do some simple pieces while the forge is hot an' ye'd normally be takin' a break anyway. That way ye save fuel, save effort, and get more done than ye would normally be able to do. And while ye're watching, ye can tell me what I'm doing wrong, if anything, and how I could do it better."
He squares up to the smith.
"I reckon ye've more than enough work to do, what with the tourney coming up, everyone wanting their neglected armor and equipment fixed up, as well as all the day-to-day stuff done. And here I am, offering my services to ye for as long as I'm here, all for the cost of the metal and wood to make a heavy hammer, and the forge time to do it."
"Your choice."


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## Captain Impossible (Apr 9, 2012)

Jarl returns Dawlyn's look. He walks towards the woman with even, deliberate steps. "Is everything alright?" the knight asks. "Ser Gough does not appear to be himself. Perhaps the battle and Ser Patrek's sudden death has upset him?" Ser Jarl knows that is not the reason, but Gough is dangerous when swords aren't drawn. And he seems ill-disposed towards the Vantri. That made him dangerous. Hopefully, Ser Jarl could find out what he was up against by talking to his paramour.


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## Cor Azer (Apr 11, 2012)

"Go way with ya, boy." The smith waves his hand dismissively "Ya rode in here with all that crowd today no doubt, and you'll all be riding out tomorrow down to Lakelights unless I miss my guess. I ain't got time for charity work - and I don't like strangers poking at me forge."

He turns away, and uses his tongs to pull another red-hot piece of metal from the heat, and begins slamming his hammer into it, slowly rendering a blade into shape.

---

Dawlyn stops, letting Ser Gough continue on without her. She raises a curious eyebrow at Ser Jarl's approach, but her face remains expressionless. She is silent for a few moments, although Ser Jarl can see her almost imperceptibly count the steps of Ser Gough's departure.

"Everything is not alright, Ser," she says finally. "But it is not my place to speak such things of my knight. Thank you for your concern."

She turns away and begins to follow Ser Gough, but pauses after only a few steps. "Tell me, Ser Jarl of House Vantri, are you a true and chivalrous knight?" Her eyes peer over her shoulder, barely turning to acknowledge the knight.

"We shall see."

Without further words, she continues down the hallway, her every step causing a seductive sway in her hips, and the slight bounce of her waist-long hair allows a hint of the flesh exposed by her nearly backless dress.


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## Captain Impossible (Apr 25, 2012)

"Honor bends nor breaks, milady," Ser Jarl replies to her question. Her response did nothing to settle his concerns about Ser Gough's intent. But there was nothing he could do, save enjoy the sight of the lady as she leaves. Once that is attended to, Ser Jarl makes his way to the great hall.


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