The Northern Road

[The Gambler]

She might as well have been kicking a stone wall for all the good it did her. Nontheless, the man did eventually drop her, rather unceremoniously beside the unconscious Edmure who had now been bound and had a sack placed over his head.

"Bag her and get moving," the leader with the morningstar ordered, as one of the bandits removed a black sack and put it over her head, plunging her into darkness, before binding her hands and feet.

[Tim of Raventree]

"No!" Violet screamed, more scared now than when the arrows were flying at her. There was something profoundly disturbing about having a sack over her head. "Please, I want to see. Please."

[The Gambler]

Her pleas were met with a sharp blow to the back of the head, knocking her off to dreamland with Edmure.

[The Gambler]

///////////////
3rd Moon, 22nd Day

It is three days of travel before they reach their destination, Violet and Edmure bagged and thrown over their captors' horses like fresh caught game. They are pulled off the horses, and dragged along, boots scuffing against stony ground, the faint scent of the sea wafting through the hoods that obscured their vision.

When both were forced to their knees and had their hoods unceremoniously removed, they were momentarily blinded by torchlight, the fire casting long shadows on a cave wall. Near as blinding was the outfit of the individual before them, who wore robes as bright as fire, of red and yellow and gold, a hood obscuring his face. However, the familiar morningstar at his belt clearly marked him as the leader of the bandit knights. He looked at them expectantly, seeming content to wait for one of them to speak up, a razor thin smile visible beneath the hood in the glow of the torches.

[Tim of Raventree]

Afraid, Violet glanced at Edmure, hoping he would be cautious. She took stock of her situation, mentally checking whether she still had her purse or her dagger.

"Who are you, ser?" She asked, resolving to be polite.

[The Gambler]

The man turned to one of his knights, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Why is that they always ask that first?" he inquired, his voice marking him as a young man.. "Every time, as if that is the most valuable thing I could reveal. If I told her I was Ser Charles of Oxecross, would that elucidate the matter in the slightest? Would it give her any peace of mind as to what to expect of her general well-being?" He sighed, clearly done with the digression, before turning to look at Edmure instead, apparently hoping for a better first impression.

Out of the corner of his eye, Edmure sees one of the knights exchange a gold coin with another, clearly having lost a bet. 

[Edwyn Blackfort]

"I'm going to take a guess here and say they're not the Night's Watch." remarked Edmure, a heavy note of sarcasm in his voice. He wished silently he could inspect the damage to his head, arm and ribs.

"From memory, the men of the Wall wear darker garb."

[Tim of Raventree]

"Obviously," Violet remarked. "Are you very badly hurt, Edmure?"

Since the knight was disinclined to answer her question plainly, she decided to wait and see what he said next, after satisfying herself as to Edmure's condition.

[Edwyn Blackfort]

"Not sure." said Edmure, still a heavy note of sarcasm present in his voice, though it wasn't directed towards Violet. "My hands appear to be bound. And I can't see very well either. His robes are blinding me. Are you alright?"

[The Gambler]

The robed figure simply stared at Edmure, clearly hoping for a less disappointing first question.

[Edwyn Blackfort]

Edmure stared back. "Would you mind loosening my bonds?" he finally asked by way of his first question. "It's been a long journey. And it's not really the way I'm accustomed to riding horses."

[The Gambler]

"Of course, we are all friends here, Ser Edmure," the hooded man replied pleasantly. "Ser Malcolm, remove his bonds."

A knight with a brown cloak drew a dagger and cut the rope that bound Edmure's hands.

[Tim of Raventree]

"I'm fine," Violet murmured to Edmure before looking at the man who had freed her brother. "Ser Malcom, could you cut my bonds too, please?"

[Edwyn Blackfort]

Edmure raised an eyebrow at Ser Malcolm, as if to imply that loosening Violet's bonds was a given.

He rubbed his wrists, before gingerly feeling the back of his head where the cudgel had struck him. There was a bump, but his skull looked to be in one piece. One tick. He glanced down at the arrow wound in his arm. It throbbed, but it looked like the wound had encrusted over with dried blood. Two ticks. His ribs...well they always seemed to be broken. Ah well...two out of three wasn't bad.

"Friends. That's an interesting term coming from you, Ser." he finally said. "There aren't too many of my friends that first shoot me and then bash me unconscious." He gave a sardonic smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, the sarcasm still heavy in his voice as he thought of Belric. "Family maybe, but not friends."

He looked slowly around the gathering.

"But yet...you seem to know who I am.  However I don't recall ever meeting previously."

[The Gambler]

Ser Malcolm looked to his boss, who's relaxed postured tensed up for a moment, before relaxing and offering a curt nod.

The knight cut Violet's bonds, allowing the blood to rush to the digits and the young woman to flex her fingers. Then in one swift motion, he grabbed her wrist and broke her pinky finger with a sickening crack so it was at a right angle.

"Now that was awfully rude," the hooded man remarked. "And here I had thought you were the proper lady of the Blackfort family. When you are in a lord's hall, do you address his knights? Do you ask them for boons or do you beg them of your gracious host? Now let us all remember our manners."

"Forgive me, but considering where you were heading when we liberated you, it seems you have a shortage of both friends and family at the moment," he replied to Edmure, as if no unpleasantness had just occurred. "I had intended to rectify that, but if you cannot even muster a thank you, we are off to an unfortunate start."