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Post by Ethan Flatrivers on Aug 31, 2016 15:06:46 GMT
"Skinner Jon," he mused, "an evocative name." He looked over to Hal, then to the knightly looking sort. Best to make one's peace with law and order before plugging your nose and diving into the shit, so he thanked the old farmer and got up. He took his drink to the ma the rest avoid and takes a seat. "Seems an awfully congenial place to be alone on a cold winter night," he said, "you a stranger here, or rather too familiar?"
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The Raven
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Post by The Raven on Sept 2, 2016 14:56:15 GMT
The balding man with the ungroomed beard gave him a cool look, a benign estimation of whether he was going to have to kill a stranger today. Or rather, the look most knights gave most strangers. "I last heard that line from a whore in Maidenpool. Somehow, I surmise you're not aiming for the same effect. Speak plainly, man."
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Post by Ethan Flatrivers on Sept 3, 2016 12:21:56 GMT
Kyle shrugged. "I just opened a tavern," he said, "and I'm trying to see if any of these sons of bitches will burn it down. I've heard it's a dangerous line of work to enter here," he said in a normal tone. The man had asked for bluntness. He'd get it. Really he could use some attempted arson. He had been a bit bored slinging drinks.
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The Raven
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Post by The Raven on Sept 3, 2016 13:02:31 GMT
He studied Kyle a moment, before nodding his head. "Aye, that's a circumstance to be concerned of, else I might not be wearing plate jus for a drink of swill. Ser Garlan. Either Garlan the Gallant or Garlan the Gruesome, depending on which side of the Redgrass you favored. Not that it matters anymore. What have you heard so far?"
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Post by Ethan Flatrivers on Sept 3, 2016 21:37:38 GMT
"These fine gentlemen burn places down," he said drily. "And I missed the wars down south so I will call you Ser and determine the sobriquet later." He extended a hand. "I'm Kyle, owner of the Lonely Ghost. Trying to ensure the place stays lonely after hours." He looked about. "Must be desperate for a good drink if you come here to be ignored."
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The Raven
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Post by The Raven on Sept 3, 2016 22:18:32 GMT
"More dutiful than desperate. It's my land, held in the name of Lord Blackfort. Robb Honeyspoon pays his taxes though, and those pilgrims pretending not to notice me have yet to commit a crime I can prove. So I'm just sitting here until I have an excuse to execute them or hand them to the Night's Watch." He shrugged. "I'll be content if they find cause to simply leave though."
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Post by Ethan Flatrivers on Sept 4, 2016 12:58:06 GMT
Kyle nodded in understanding. "I see," he said. "The downfalls of law and order, that pesky requirement to catch someone in the act." He looked about. "Are these roustabouts local or an imported variety?" He asked.
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The Raven
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Post by The Raven on Sept 4, 2016 13:09:32 GMT
"Recently imported, but I suspect Hal over there is the same Hal wanted in Shoreham for publicly drowning his wife in a horse's water trough. No one here will confirm it though, for fear of getting their homes likewise torched. Which I can respect, but it's just encouraging the whoreson and his friends to stick around."
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Post by Ethan Flatrivers on Sept 5, 2016 12:10:51 GMT
Kyle nodded. He thought he'd heard Shoreham was nearby. "Well, flies never leave a particularly good carcass when there is nothing around to swat them," he said. He'd have to come up with a way to get that old lord's men on his case. "Maybe they can find a new place to gather, far away from here," he said. "They should be hanged for the piss they're selling as ale, if nothing else."
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The Raven
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Post by The Raven on Sept 5, 2016 12:28:22 GMT
"At the same time, I am told Lord Belric and his kin have more pressing matters than protecting their people, and have left that fat sack of wine they call a magistrate in defense of their subjects. It's only a matter of time before the proper men at arms are called away." He tapped the map in front of him. "Harrentown is but an hour's march from this cesspool. This is not a time to let lawlessness fester."
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Post by Ethan Flatrivers on Sept 5, 2016 18:52:24 GMT
"Well you're probably right; lords got bigger concerns than justice," he said. "They left one of the sisters in charge, I think; no real organization to be spoken of there. If they stay out of the tow. Proper I doubt any one'll do anything to them." Even if Kyle wanted, he couldn't get any lordly attention to this. "Going to have to wait for them to be less discrete I guess."
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The Raven
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Post by The Raven on Sept 6, 2016 19:16:47 GMT
"Wait? I think not." He sipped his drink. "I could pull my sword out right now. Loudly threaten to skin you like my dinner. Possibly knock you out of your chair, then walk out. Then you might commiserate with Hal and Master Honeyspoon on the self-righteousness of knights. From there, who knows what division and plague a new friend might wreak? Perhaps choice words might slip from their mouths into your armory. Perhaps you might unveil the true value of honor among scoundrels. Who can say?" He shrugged. "Not I."
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Post by Ethan Flatrivers on Sept 6, 2016 20:12:36 GMT
Kyle had a feeling he was going to need someone a lot better at fighting than him, by the time this business had sorted itself out. "I guess we never know what the gods have in store for us," he said. "Try not to break my nose; I quite like it," he added, as an afterthought.
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The Raven
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Post by The Raven on Sept 9, 2016 15:34:51 GMT
Garlan gave a scowl, growling low enough no one else might here, but still sounding hostile enough to attract attention. "I reside on the hill a mile east of this place. Find me when you need me." Then suddenly, he was towering over the innkeeper, knife touching Kyle's jugular.
"I don't fucking care which dragon Ravensbane served or what that trash in Harrentown tell you, you will not fucking speak ill of House Lothston on my land!" He looked at the rest of the tavern. "The same goes for the rest of you! No 'Daffy Dany'! No 'Whore of Harrenhal'! When I sit in this tavern, I expect proper respect to that woman!"
The knight stormed out after releasing the reputed source of his ire. Soon, the older tavern server, a woman with black hair and a broken nose, was helping Kyle up. "Sorry, traveler, Ser Garlan normally has a few 'fore he starts with the past. He was one of Ser Simon Babykiller's boys, so a lot of folks avoid him."
The rest of the tavern was staring openly at Kyle, possibly curious whether he might have pissed himself.
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Post by Ethan Flatrivers on Sept 9, 2016 18:13:45 GMT
Kyle hadn't, but if the thought had occurred to him first he'd have done it. "Well," he said, "maybe he was in charge of fucking the babies before Lothson killed them," he said. "Fucking nobles, taking all we got and more besides," he grumbled. "I need a fucking drink...please," he said, then scowled at the tavern.
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