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Post by Maester Percival on Jul 9, 2016 21:56:22 GMT
Percival released the raven and let it fly. He studied the bird quite curious as to what the message said. He turned to Belric, and was surprised to seem him still there. His smirk grew snide, but the expression never touched his voice as he replied. "I was simply doing my duty. There is no cause for applause. Hoster still yet may die. His body is fine, but his mind is weak. He begged for me to kill him."
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jul 9, 2016 22:07:18 GMT
"He's asked me to kill him for less, I wouldn't put too much thought into it. Stubborn as a mule that one." Belric gave Percival a look, "Run's in the family. Just be sure to let me know if he decides to end it."
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Post by Maester Percival on Jul 9, 2016 22:21:09 GMT
Percival tilted his head slightly. "If he insists on ending his life it would be a simple matter. I have enough milk of the poppy to ease him on quite gently." He frowned though and walked back into the center of the rookery. "Though obviously I would prefer if he lived." Percival really did not give a shit about Hoster. He had proved himself too weak to matter.
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jul 9, 2016 22:39:50 GMT
Percival's nonchalant attitude disturbed Belric, it seemed far too easy for the man to write off death. "I do not see Hoster taking a cowards death. He came into this world fighting, I doubt the gods want to see him leave it any other way."
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Post by Maester Percival on Jul 10, 2016 2:14:30 GMT
Percival shrugged his shoulders. He noticed a small mark on the sleeve of his tunic and he began to rub it clean with his thumb. He hated filth. "My grandfather was a great warrior. He had a reputation all through the Westlands as an indomitable spirit and a deadly opponent. He got the aching disease in his sword hand. It was so bad he could not hold a blade anymore." He focused on his tunic his fingernail working on the mark until it came free. "He hung himself in the stables." Percival said it like he said anything, with out any emotion. "The strong are never use to becoming the weak." Of course Hoster had always been a weak and foolish man, but even losing that little could drive a man mad.
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jul 10, 2016 6:16:26 GMT
Belric did not intend to insult Percival by redirecting the conversation. However, he knew things of such a nature did not always warrant a response. There was little he could say of merit, he knew far too little about the man.
"Were you close with your family?" Belric asked, genuinely interested. Family meant a lot to the man, strong values were an important trait when it came to building a man. "You told me of the abuse your father put you through, but did you have anyone you were close with?"
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Post by Maester Percival on Jul 11, 2016 0:00:52 GMT
Percival dropped his sleeve, and looked back up at Belric. He thought a long moment as if running through the list of his entire family, one by one. Then he said simply. "No, there was not." He kept his emotionless eyes on Lord Piggy. He did not get to know any of Percival's secrets.
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jul 11, 2016 3:22:15 GMT
"That must have been difficult," replied Belric, if he had been feigning honesty he did it well. There was more he wanted to say, more he want to know, but he refrained for pushing Percival. "Family can be a gift and a curse."
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Post by Maester Percival on Jul 11, 2016 23:50:18 GMT
Percival was again surprised. Belric was acting subtle. Perhaps Lord Piggy ate from a deeper trough then Percival had thought. "I hardly think your family has been much of a curse to you. Quite a blessing I suppose." He was still restrained of course, he would never give anything away to this poor excuse for a man.
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jul 12, 2016 0:52:59 GMT
Belric thought on the Maester's words, images of a life long gone running through his head. He thought of all the fights he had been in, black eyes and broken limbs to protect his siblings. He thought of his father, a hard man by any standard, and the responsibilities he had left behind. Belric was thankful for his familys lesser nobility, but Guard of the Shit Gate had never been a position that had matched his aspirations. Finally, he thought of the stress his siblings could create so effortlessly. Warranted or not, he had a driving desire to see them all taken care of. Now that Belric was Lord of Harrenhal and had the means to do so, the struggle became more defined.
However, Belric did not say any of this. Instead he forced a smile and said, "Until next time." He then truned to leave the Rookery.
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Post by Edwyn Blackfort on Jul 20, 2016 0:21:56 GMT
//////
Edmure Blackfort visits the rookery carrying a sealed letter - one of five copies he has had made.
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The Gambler
Administrator
Alea Iacta Est
Posts - 1,984
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Joined - December 2015
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Post by The Gambler on Jul 20, 2016 0:40:55 GMT
(What did I just say? I was not kidding. Curse of Harrenhal Flip: Heads)
Nothing happens, but all Percival's ravens turn to glare as the castellan with the judgement of the gods in their beady black eyes.
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Post by Maester Percival on Jul 20, 2016 15:41:11 GMT
Percival entered quietly and witness his birds glaring at Edmure and he smiled to himself. He had trained them well then. He liked them being eerie. That is why he decided to stand quietly behind Edmure as the man glared at the Ravens.
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The Raven
Administrator
Posts - 1,119
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Joined - December 2015
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Post by The Raven on Sept 5, 2016 16:15:40 GMT
A raven arrives, bearing the following message.
To the esteemed Lord and Lady Blackfort,
My liege, Lord Osmynd Goodbrook, has departed for your own lands to discuss terms of fealty. Know that he will be accompanied by his three sons, all of marrying age, as well as an appropriate entourage of knights and trusted retainers. He hopes Lord Belric will consent to joining him for a hunt. On a more pertinent note, Lord Goodbrook's favorite vintage is traditionally located on the second shelf four aisles from the cellar entrance, marked by a red leaf imprint. Lady Goodbrook insists that only a single bottle be served at dinner. Both she and Lord Osmynd bequeath their prayers for a fruitful relationship between both noble houses.
Maester Jaime Goodbrook
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Post by Maester Percival on Sept 5, 2016 17:06:03 GMT
Percival gets the message and reads it. He snorted at the imperious tone of the writer. Percival smiled slowly thinking how much this message would aggrieve his Lord Belric. He snatched it up and hurried to his room to dress before going to find Belric.
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