The Barracks Hall and Armory

[The Gambler]

Where the men-at-arms bunk and take their meals. The armory is located below the Barracks Hall and contains the forge.

[Lord Belric Blackfort]

Belric arrive at the armory, led by a squad of his new knights.

[The Raven]

His new masters by royal decree find that Jaime has ordered the construction of wooden barriers at each entrance. It's unsurprising, as there would be carpenters among the rebels, as well as men who have built such things for battle encampments. These are not the professional killers that highborn use to enforce their will, but the artisans and manual laborers lords and ladies take for granted.

Oncomers are greeted by patrols of men wearing the same armor as Lord Blackfort's own knights, though not so professionally worn. Pieces of armor are missing and they appear to have defaced them with some sort of markings. They move like common footsoldiers, not proud knights.

[Lord Belric Blackfort]

"Where is your leader?" Belric asked pointedly. "The war is over, Harrenhal is under new command and I would like to have words with Jamie the Smith."

[Ser Tallahar Rivers]

Tallahar shuffled on his feet almost impatient. Today had been quite a day and for it to soon be over made the older man hope of sleeping in a warm bed for a change.

[The Raven]

Jun 11, 2016 19:32:47 GMT Lord Belric Blackfort said:

"Where is your leader?" Belric asked pointedly. "The war is over, Harrenhal is under new command and I would like to have words with Jamie the Smith."

As he approaches this particular patrol, Belric finds that their armor hasn't been defaced, or at least not in a way he had seen from criminals. In red paint, each Harrentown man had written a name across their chest. Benjen, Sansa, Myrcella, Edmure, Brienne... Some names repeat, and presumably the particularly hostile and we'll-bearded man pointing his crossbow at Belric isn't named Daena.

"Fuck the war! And fuck the Whents! On your knees!" His men drew their own weapons, and nearby, Belric could make out another heavily armed patrol approaching. The windows of the barracks opened, as archers prepared to take aim. Suddenly, 400 no longer seemed to be just a round number. Indeed, it seemed to have quite the edge right now.

[Ser Willis Blackfort]

Willis's axe was in his hand as soon as the other men drew their weapons. "Well, at least I agree with two out of three." He did his best to keep his shield between himself and the nearest archers in the windows.

[Lord Belric Blackfort]

Belric eyed the crossbows surrounding him.  Despite the resentment he felt, having a deadly weapon aimed at his head, he was rather impressed to see the 'peasants' so well organized.

"Aye, fuck the war, took the lives of those I cared about most. And fuck the Whents, too busy squabbling over who's the lesser man to do their duty. But most of all, fuck my knees. Took an arrow in my leg some years ago, its just never worked the same." Belric slapped his left thigh, indicating which one he was reference. "So I'm not going to be doing any kneeling. But I am going to do what I came here to do, which is talk. You can point crossbows at me all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that there is an army of trained men outside under my command. And right beyond that army are what's left of your homes and your families.  Sitting there, starving and unprotected, while you sit here barricaded within these walls."

Belric signed, the day beginning to wear on him.  He was not trying to threaten these men, even though he had just referenced destroying their livelihoods, he was only speaking of what made sense.  "Lothson was a murderous cunt, but don't kill the man who has come to make reparations.  There is a chance we can all walk away with this getting what we want, however if you add the murder of your new lord to the list of crimes you lot have committed it will be hard to argue your freedom.  Let me speak with Jamie the Smith, if he does not agree with what I have to say you can always kill me then."

(Persuasion: 43)

[The Raven]

(Success)

The bearded man marked 'Daena' slowly lowered his weapon. His men did not. "You don't sound like a lordling, and you certainly aren't a Whent. Who are you that we should be calling you 'milord'?"

[Lord Belric Blackfort]

"I am Belric, of House Blackfort," he said, standing a little taller. "I was Knight of the Black Gate in Harroway's town, appointed Lord of Harrenhal by King Daemon Blackfyre in reward for my deeds at Redgrass Field. I am as much a lordling as you are knights." Belric looked around at the array of fortifications built by the commoners, "But perhaps you have the makings of knights among you."

[The Raven]

Belric received a growl in response. "It were knights that took my Daena from me, and Jon's boy Edmure, and Loras' baby sister. It were knights that made us pay Lothson for the privilege with tax after bleeding' tax. And it were knights that kept the rest of us hungry. I'll take you to Jaime, but don't be throwing that snakepiss around inside if you know what's good for you... milord."

[Maester Percival]

Percival listened to Lord Piggy talk to the commoner. He shook his head slowly. The peasant should feel blessed that his child proved useful to his liege lady. Normally urchin children were completely useless, and just got in the way of every one. Begging and pleading for coin to feed their family. Percival detested their weakness. You would never see a Lannister beg for food. Percival smirked to himself at the very notion.

[Lord Belric Blackfort]

"Lead on," Belric said pointing with an open hand, not wanting to linger on all the reasons this man had to be angry.

[Lucas of Brindlewood]

Ser Willem had followed Lord Belric's group, once again loitering near the rear. Mirroring Ser Willis he had drawn his blade and raised his shield as the smallfolk took aim at their new Lord, but sheathed it once the man offered to take Belric to the revolt's leader.

[The Raven]

In the barracks, he found the peasants in various stages of armament. Without the house armor, Belric saw only ordinary, malnourished villagers. These people had been starving before Simon took the granary.

Eventually, Belric was brought to the quarters of the former captain of the guards. Behind a desk sat bearded man with long hair. He did not appear as fanatical or intense as one might expect from his predicament.

He spoke in a soft and polite voice. "I served in the war a long time, milord. I know that you must have a writ, if you are who you claim to be. I must see it before we can discuss terms."