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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jun 20, 2016 22:55:35 GMT
"Good," Said Belric, his fist thumping the table in exclamation. "Do you have anything to report?"
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Boros
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Jon
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Post by Boros on Jun 20, 2016 23:11:55 GMT
"Nothing..." Hoster shook his head dismissively, he had just ordered his men to look after the other two, he would have any word from them any time soon. "But da new recruits are shapin' up very well; we might have a decent Gaurd soon enough."
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jun 21, 2016 6:35:27 GMT
Belric stood up from his chair, ready to excuse himself to deal with other duties. "Keep your head low, uncle. I would like to see it remain on your shoulders."
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Post by Benjen Blackfort on Jun 21, 2016 7:07:35 GMT
/////////////////////
A day after arriving at Harrenhal, Benjen Blackfort locates Hoster's door and bangs on it with his fist. "Uncle Hos? You in there?"
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Boros
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Post by Boros on Jun 21, 2016 15:03:15 GMT
Hoster opened the door sullenly, he had been getting his uniform on to start the day's duty. He stood bare-chested, staring impassively at the annoying little runt who had come knock at his door.
"Who da feck are ye?" Hoster certainly did not recognize Benjen for two reasons: 1- The ugly scar across his cheek; 2- He was Richard's son, if there was something Hoster couldn't care less about it was one of Richard's whelp. "Lemme guess, another o' Bruce's basterds. Fecker couldn' hold his prick inside his trousers, apparently."
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Post by Benjen Blackfort on Jun 21, 2016 18:08:44 GMT
"Fuck, Hoster, you drunk already?" Benjen asked, eyeing Hoster's state of rumpled undress. Not that Benjen had much room to criticize on that front -- nothing better to get yourself sorted in the morning than a strong cup of wine -- but this was impressively early to already be plastered even by Ben's low standards. "It's your nephew. Ben? Blackfort. Shit, I ain't been gone that long, Hoster."
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Boros
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Post by Boros on Jun 21, 2016 18:25:51 GMT
Hoster's eyes rolled, one nephew was fine for him, especially if he was paying. Two he could have tolerated, even if it meant that Edmure ,little shit. The gods must have been playing with him, there was a reason he had stayed away from his family for so long.
"Oh yeah... Ye're Richard's lil' runt." Hoster said unenthusiastically, making his way back inside to grab a shirt. "See ye found yer way to suck on Belric's tits. Welcome to da guild, boyo."
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Post by Benjen Blackfort on Jun 22, 2016 6:21:57 GMT
Benjen walked into Hoster's room as Hoster went to find a shirt. He leaned against a wall as Hoster clothed himself. Ben was beginning to doubt his own wisdom in seeking the man out; he could see why Willem did not want anything to do with his father. "I'd still be a captive in Dorne if Belric didn't decide to pay for me," Ben shrugged. "Not like my Da was going to, what with the vows of service and poverty and suchlike. I ain't all chivalric, but I try to pay my debts."
"You got anything to drink around here?" Ben asked.
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Boros
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Post by Boros on Jun 22, 2016 9:25:57 GMT
"That's mah motto, kiddo. Feck'em Knights an' Feck'em Dornish..." Hoster cried out from inside. It took him a couple of momentous to be back sitting by his desk. His expression was a little more relaxed now. "Ah already hate you a lil' less for tha'." He opened a crooked smiled.
"Wha' brings ye to mah chambers, nephew?" He said, grabbing a goblet and feeling it up in his private cask for Benjen. Going from Little Runt to nephew in less than an hour was a very big thing with Hoster. "Don' tell me ah owe ye money, cuz if ye do ah'll have to fling ye out o' the window." The seriousness in Hoster's face made it hard to identify if that was a joke or not...
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Post by Benjen Blackfort on Jun 23, 2016 6:55:02 GMT
Benjen nodded as he listened to Hoster's distinctive brand of Riverlands patois. When Hoster filled a goblet with wine, Ben took it and toasted the air in front of Hoster in salute, then took a long drink. He tilted his head at the last question.
"Already told you, Uncle Hos. Harrenhal's a big fucking place, I figured the easiest way to find a drink was to find you. So I did." Benjen broke out into a grin. It was impossible to tell if Ben was telling the truth or this was merely his idea of humor. But by the way he drank, it was clear that Ben was content enough with the outcome of his visit already.
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Boros
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Post by Boros on Jun 23, 2016 13:29:48 GMT
"Guess'd right, boyo. Just don' abuse tha' info'mation." Hoster chuckled, filling a goblet for himself and turning it down in one swallow. He stopped for a couple moments, analysing Benjen's face. He had never seen a scar such as those, in fact, it was a very strange scar to have.
"Da fek happen'd to yer face, Ben?" Hoster asked innocently. Filter was an unknown word to him.
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Post by Benjen Blackfort on Jun 26, 2016 6:20:48 GMT
"Just the war," Ben answered. "Tried to kill one of the high and mighty and he didn't take kindly to it. But I won't complain about being alive." Ben drank again from his cup. The wounds really weren't so bad. Those Ben killed and saw killed were what stayed with him. But Ben was not about to admit that to himself, much less anyone else. Humor and drink were easier.
"Anyway, I spent a spell down in Sunspear as Prince Maron's captive. Which mostly means I drank his wine and sat on my ass. But damn. You ever met any Dornish girls, uncle? The things I could tell you about Dornish girls..." Ben grinned again.
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Boros
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Post by Boros on Jun 26, 2016 16:25:46 GMT
"Fecking dornish an' their piss wine..." Hoster spat on the floor; some wench would clean that later, they had probably gotten used to it by now. "Woul' rather feck a goat, to be honest."
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Post by Benjen Blackfort on Jun 27, 2016 16:17:49 GMT
"No need to bring your past conquests into it, Uncle," Ben said, "Though I'm sure they all had very lovely fur." Ben looked around the room and took another swig of the presumably non-Dornish wine. "So you are the guard captain? What does that mean around here, stomping whatever Reds are left hiding out in the woods?"
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Boros
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Post by Boros on Jun 27, 2016 17:01:04 GMT
Hoster chuckled at Benjen's retort, it was surely meant as a joke but the kid may have hit a little closer to the truth than he might have expected. You know, youth, alcohol and wagers are rarely a good combination, Hoster would rather not talk about it publicly.
"Nah, it's be'er than tha'. Ah just walk around da castle gettin' piss drunk, not much risk involv'd." Hoster said sincerely. "Well, there's also som' ma'er wi' bandits tha' all 'ave ta take care of soon enough. Ol' pals o' mine, deserters."
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