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Post by Ser Tallahar Rivers on Jun 7, 2016 4:29:42 GMT
Walking in with his saddlebags across a shoulder and a bag of oats in hands Tallahar strolls in still whistling to himself. Smiling to his younger and now lordly brother, "How about getting something hot inside us? I brought in some oats so I could get a porridge going and with the jerky I could get some sort of stew going. It would be nice to have potatoes or an onion." With a few pokes Tallahar gets the fire going a bit stronger.
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Post by Maester Percival on Jun 7, 2016 4:34:32 GMT
Percival stares at the old woman with disgust. Then takes a bit of hard bread from his pocket. Then staring the old hag directly in the eye he begins to eat the bread slowly. Percival frowns thinking how disgusting the bread is, but he keeps eating until the bread is gone. Percival knows no shame.
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Post by Sigfry Deddings on Jun 7, 2016 5:14:00 GMT
Yoren arrived at the inn, giving a knock on the inns door before he went through it and went looking for Belric. He spotted his friend as he approached, giving a nod to the man as he looked towards him.
"Good to see you've found a place for us to stay for now." Yoren said as he looked around at the inn, having been in worse during the war, "We scouted the castle. The situation is grim, but we might have a way to take the castle without losing a lot of its forces." He said, trying to recall everything he had heard during his time there.
He focused on the details that would matter, Bruce Whent slaying Lady Lothson, Simon Whent turning against him. The loyalist to the lothsons holding up in the Wailing Tower with the food and gold, while the others of the Kingspyre tower starved along with others in the town. He focused on the numbers, 37 in the Wailing tower, 59 for the Kingspyre, and the knights whose name he knew, Harrys, Vincent, and Thomas.
He hoped he'd be able to say all that happened. And recount the information accurately.
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The Gambler
Administrator
Alea Iacta Est
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Post by The Gambler on Jun 7, 2016 5:49:00 GMT
(Dumb as One Too-Every time Yoren attempts something cerebral an admin will flip the Coin of Doom. Heads, proceed as usual. Tails, the well-meaning simpleton will fuck up big time. Result: TAILS)
The trusted scout opens his mouth to make his report and remembers...basically nothing. There were so many Whents and so many knights in the same outfits, it was almost understandable he had gotten confused. He forgot all of the names, but told Belric he swore one of the knights they met was called The Fonze. In addition, any number he couldn't count to with his fingers and toes was clearly too high and he gave up on giving exact numbers all together, instead making hand motions to indicate a lot and a little. All in all, what came out sounded like a 5 year old attempting to explain the plot of Inception. The cherry on top, or in this case feces, was that he still had bird shit matted in his hair.
Hopefully one of his companions would be of more use.
(Ser Yoren loses 1 Disposition Level with Ser Valarr, who is now convinced that the Blackfort sworn knights all ate paint chip as children)
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Post by Jon Blackfort on Jun 7, 2016 6:09:54 GMT
Jon had followed in after Ser Yoren and now gave a perplexed look at the back of the big man’s head. Was the lad having a stroke? He gave Yoren a pitying pat on the back and a consoling, “That’s alright lad, just the cold…” He cleared his throat and correctly recounted the information the big guy had tried his hardest to communicate. When he was finished he added, “In my opinion, lawlessness reigns in Harrenhal because there is no acknowledged liege Lord between the warring factions. A stern affirmation of House Blackfort as the rightful rulers of the castle could help to deter violence. These men are still knights.”
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Barley
High Lord
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Post by Barley on Jun 7, 2016 6:27:11 GMT
"So, in order to avenge Lady Lothson, the men loyal to her decided to starve her people by refusing to open the granaries?" She asked, frowning deeply, in her mind that made no sense.
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Post by Jon Blackfort on Jun 7, 2016 7:01:25 GMT
Jon inclined his head to his lady. "Honour and justice can cloud one's mind just as much as hatred and revenge." He remarked. "Both factions seem convinced of the other's injustice, and Ser Simon has likely closed the granaries if only to keep them falling in to Ser Bruce's hand's. I doubt consideration for the wellbeing of the smallfolk entered into that decision. Indeed Ser Bruce's men mistook us for bandits, as they appear to have branded Jaime's men as also."
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jun 7, 2016 7:39:05 GMT
Belric looked at Yoren, watching him as he struggled to speak. It was frustrating, like watching a child try to read a book aloud. The soldier had been a good friend of Belric's since childhood, this was something the new lord should have accounted for. He was thankful when his uncle stepped in and relieved Yoren of the embarrassment. Belric listened intently, slow to realize that he himself was not much brighter than his sworn knight. They were soldiers, trained to think as a unit and not on their own.
"What of Jamie the Smith and the rest of the townsfolk? Do they live? Are the grain storages secure?"
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Post by Jon Blackfort on Jun 7, 2016 8:07:43 GMT
"The grain stores are held by Ser Simon... as is the treasury." Jon stated, addressing the more important point first. "We encountered no sign of Jamie nor his townsfolk. The knights we met thought them unimportant enough to not mention, only that they had considered them bandits." That there were townsfolk in the inn stopped Jon from adding the obvious assumption.
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jun 7, 2016 8:13:25 GMT
"Were there any sings of children?" Belric's demeanor turned morose, worried his uncle would respond with bad news.
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Post by Jon Blackfort on Jun 7, 2016 8:18:10 GMT
"No my Lord." He paused trying to recall any detail. "Though the wounded Ser Thomas did suggest that he had recently been romantically involved with Ser Vincent's sister. So children is not outside the realm of possibility." If Jon Blackfort had been making a joke, he gave no sign of it.
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Post by Edwyn Blackfort on Jun 7, 2016 8:20:56 GMT
"Despite what may or may not sit in those granaries, it would be better to arrive with meat instead of empty hands." Belric was speaking to the room, his voice definitive. "If we can prove ourselves useful to the people, a small meal may be all it takes to win the day." "Edmure, take Jormun and see if you cant find us a meal. Even a squirrel stew is a banquet to hungry men." Edmure looked at his elder brother as if he had gone mad. "You want me in plate armor and a sword to go...hunting for meat outside Harrentown in the middle of winter? The people here are already starving and have probably already eaten every cat, dog, rat, horse, cow or sheep inside the town. If they can't find and catch any game, how am I going to?" he inquired in as sarcastic a tone as he could muster. He pointed to his sword. "What am I supposed to do? Behead the squirrel once I find it? At least Jormun has a spear and a crossbow. And his falcon."
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Post by Edwyn Blackfort on Jun 7, 2016 8:27:13 GMT
The old woman stared at Edmure and poured him an ale, setting it on the bar, a clear indication that if he wanted it he could come up and grab it himself. "Two gold dragon," she droned. "Even two silver stags would be too much for a cup of ale." declared Edmure. "One groat."
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The Gambler
Administrator
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Post by The Gambler on Jun 7, 2016 8:37:13 GMT
"Even two silver stags would be too much for a cup of ale." declared Edmure. "One groat." "Ales at a premium," the woman deadpanned. "And I don't haggle."
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Post by Edwyn Blackfort on Jun 7, 2016 8:42:42 GMT
The trusted scout opens his mouth to make his report and remembers...basically nothing. There were so many Whents and so many knights in the same outfits, it was almost understandable he had gotten confused. He forgot all of the names, but told Belric he swore one of the knights they met was called The Fonze. In addition, any number he couldn't count to with his fingers and toes was clearly too high and he gave up on giving exact numbers all together, instead making hand motions to indicate a lot and a little. All in all, what came out sounded like a 5 year old attempting to explain the plot of Inception. The cherry on top, or in this case feces, was that he still had bird shit matted in his hair. Edmure sighed inwardly as Yoren stumbled through a garbled report. He didn't know about the others but he was none the wiser as to what was happening after the scout had finished. Thank the old gods for his uncle Jon, who could at least provide something that was of use to them. He wondered what Belric would do with the information. He smiled at his own question because he was almost certain of the answer. Ask his wife no doubt.
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