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Post by Tim of Raventree on Jun 7, 2016 21:26:53 GMT
Violet burst through the door in a panic and threw herself down in a nearby chair. She covered her face with her shaking hands.
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Boros
Knight
Jon
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Post by Boros on Jun 7, 2016 22:13:08 GMT
"Belric... Come outside, we hav' to talk." Hoster burst in some time after Violet. He did not run on his way there, in his mind he had done nothing wrong, it had just all been a big accident. Truth was, he'd end up killing the old fuck later anyway.
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jun 8, 2016 1:51:48 GMT
Belric was about to start assiging men to serve under his wife when Violet came bursting into the inn. Belric's sword was drawn before the door had closed, adrenaline already coursing through his veins.
"What happened to you Violet? Where's Host..." Belric was interrupted by his uncle, whom entered the door with far more composure than Violet. If Hoster was calm, something was wrong.
Without saying a word, Belric sheathed his great sword and followed Hoster outside. "What happened?" He asked, knowing bad news was on the wind. The night would soon become far colder than it already was.
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Boros
Knight
Jon
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Post by Boros on Jun 8, 2016 2:00:36 GMT
Belric was about to start assiging men to serve under his wife when Violet came bursting into the inn. Belric's sword was drawn before the door had closed, adrenaline already coursing through his veins. "What happened to you Violet? Where's Host..." Belric was interrupted by his uncle, whom entered the door with far more composure than Violet. If Hoster was calm, something was wrong. Without saying a word, Belric sheathed his great sword and followed Hoster outside. "What happened?" He asked, knowing bad news was on the wind. The night would soon become far colder than it already was. "Violet decided ta go around helpin' poor people, said there was an old man the innkeeper told her needed help... Was probably tryin' ta bugger with da poor girl, tha' bitch." Hoster cleared his throat, he spoke hushedly but there was no tension in his voice. "Turns out, da fecker was a feckin' pervert. Yer sistah told 'im she was, well, yer sistah an' wanted ta help 'im. Old bugger starts ta undress an' tell her ta lay on the bed. Ah told 'er ta come back here, whil' ah taught 'im a lesson." He paused. "How was ah ta kno' the fecker was made ou' o' glass?!?! Anyway, naw he's dead. Mah boys are waitin' wi' his body back in 'is home." He said matter of factly, as if just telling his nephew how was his day.
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Post by Sigfry Deddings on Jun 8, 2016 2:10:29 GMT
Yoren had been sulking in the corner, sitting with his eyes looking to the ground as he reached up and brushed the side of his head, his hair parting a bit to show off the discolored skin of scar tissue, normally hidden by his bangs. It hurt, not all the time, but on occasion it would peak and make it hard for him to think.
Sometimes he;d forget basic things, like where he was, who he was with, what he was doing, and be unable to recall it at all, along with a pounding headache. Ever since the last battle he had been in, a raid of a targaryen camp where someone with an axe had scored a lucky blow on him, and left him asleep for 3 days, apparently.
He didn't sulk here for how stupid he had sounded. It was failing to give his friend the information he wanted that made him feel so low. He didn't mind coming off as a moron. But a failure is a bitter thing to be, idiot or otherwise.
He heard the shouting, and his head turned to look towards the commotion to see Violet burst in and crying. Yoren got to his feet and walked over towards her, taking a knee to come eye level towards her as she sat in her chair and cried.
"What happened?" He asked simply, looking towards her as he watched Belric go outside to see what Hoster wanted.
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The Gambler
Administrator
Alea Iacta Est
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Post by The Gambler on Jun 8, 2016 2:17:50 GMT
Shortly after Edmure and Dacey had departed with their group, Sir Willem Rivers rode up to the inn, garbed in muddied riding leathers. His inquiries with the smallfolk of Harrentown had led him to this inn, and while he was at something of a loss as to why the Lord of Harrenhal would not wish to take up residence in his new home immediately, he figured that upon meeting with Belric, he would have that answer soon enough. Dismounting, he led his horse to the stable at the back of the inn, where he left it in the company of many finer groomed mounts. Brushing some of the dirt off himself as he made his way back to the front of the inn, he muttered a brief prayer to the gods he had little faith in that his introductions to his distant kin would go well, and nobody would take it upon themselves to probe too deeply into his past. His left hand toyed with the pommel of the blade at his side, reassuring him in a more tangible way than his prayer did. Seeing a rough looking man positioned before the door to the inn, Willem Flashed him a sympathetic smile, knowing the lot of being stuck on a long guard duty, Willem made his purpose at the inn known. “I am here to speak with my kinsman, Lord Belric Blackfort. I take it he is to be found within?” The guard simply nodded.
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Post by Ser Willis Blackfort on Jun 8, 2016 4:48:10 GMT
Belric was about to start assiging men to serve under his wife when Violet came bursting into the inn. Belric's sword was drawn before the door had closed, adrenaline already coursing through his veins. "What happened to you Violet? Where's Host..." Belric was interrupted by his uncle, whom entered the door with far more composure than Violet. If Hoster was calm, something was wrong. Without saying a word, Belric sheathed his great sword and followed Hoster outside. "What happened?" He asked, knowing bad news was on the wind. The night would soon become far colder than it already was. "Violet decided ta go around helpin' poor people, said there was an old man the innkeeper told her needed help... Was probably tryin' ta bugger with da poor girl, tha' bitch." Hoster cleared his throat, he spoke hushedly but there was no tension in his voice. "Turns out, da fecker was a feckin' pervert. Yer sistah told 'im she was, well, yer sistah an' wanted ta help 'im. Old bugger starts ta undress an' tell her ta lay on the bed. Ah told 'er ta come back here, whil' ah taught 'im a lesson." He paused. "How was ah ta kno' the fecker was made ou' o' glass?!?! Anyway, naw he's dead. Mah boys are waitin' wi' his body back in 'is home." He said matter of factly, as if just telling his nephew how was his day. Willis broke out laughing, doing his best to keep it somewhat quiet. "Well this is just the best godsdamn way a family's ever accepted a lordship, ain't it? The keep occupied by fuckin' bandit knights, the new lord's sister nearly molested by the local pervert, and that pervert then beaten to death by the lord's drunk-ass old uncle. This is gonna make for a fine play, one day."
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Post by Lucas of Brindlewood on Jun 8, 2016 5:44:30 GMT
Shortly after Edmure and Dacey had departed with their group, Sir Willem Rivers rode up to the inn, garbed in muddied riding leathers. His inquiries with the smallfolk of Harrentown had led him to this inn, and while he was at something of a loss as to why the Lord of Harrenhal would not wish to take up residence in his new home immediately, he figured that upon meeting with Belric, he would have that answer soon enough. Dismounting, he led his horse to the stable at the back of the inn, where he left it in the company of many finer groomed mounts. Brushing some of the dirt off himself as he made his way back to the front of the inn, he muttered a brief prayer to the gods he had little faith in that his introductions to his distant kin would go well, and nobody would take it upon themselves to probe too deeply into his past. His left hand toyed with the pommel of the blade at his side, reassuring him in a more tangible way than his prayer did. Seeing a rough looking man positioned before the door to the inn, Willem Flashed him a sympathetic smile, knowing the lot of being stuck on a long guard duty, Willem made his purpose at the inn known. “I am here to speak with my kinsman, Lord Belric Blackfort. I take it he is to be found within?” The guard simply nodded. As the man made not comment that would indicate he should not enter, Willem passed him, opening the door and making his way in to the inn.
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Post by Lord Belric Blackfort on Jun 8, 2016 5:47:23 GMT
Belric put the palm of his hand to his fore head, rubbing his temples to easy the frustration. He could not decide who of the three he should be angry with more, Hoster, Violet, or the corpse of the rotting pervert. Willis's light heartedness was only fuel to the fire.
"Was this something you couldn't have taken care of on your own? By implicating me you may have sealed your own fate uncle." Belric strained his neck, the stress was begining to build. "Lady Lothson has been kidnapping the peoples children, and now we are murdering their elderly. In their own homes no less."
Belric paced back and forth, "I can't worry about this now, I need you with me tomorrow when we take Harrenhal. We will deal with what is to become of you another time." He turned to walk back inside, pausing before he entered the door. "Go give the old man a propper burial, perhaps we can convince the people it was an accident and they won't see you as the remorseless killer you are." Belric did not say it as an insult, only a statement of fact.
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Post by Ser Tallahar Rivers on Jun 8, 2016 5:52:19 GMT
As Belric re-entered the Inn Tallahar was standing there with a bowl of hot porridge, "Care for something to eat brother?" For the bastard Knight nothing seemed to be amiss. The horses had been cared for and they had a roof over there heads. Compared to some parts of the War this was quite nice.
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Barley
High Lord
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Post by Barley on Jun 8, 2016 7:12:56 GMT
Her husband seemed annoyed as he returned, but she said nothing for now, happy to wait until they were alone to extract what was wrong. She waited for him to say what he had before they were interrupted.
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Boros
Knight
Jon
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Post by Boros on Jun 8, 2016 8:54:20 GMT
Belric put the palm of his hand to his fore head, rubbing his temples to easy the frustration. He could not decide who of the three he should be angry with more, Hoster, Violet, or the corpse of the rotting pervert. Willis's light heartedness was only fuel to the fire. "Was this something you couldn't have taken care of on your own? By implicating me you may have sealed your own fate uncle." Belric strained his neck, the stress was begining to build. "Lady Lothson has been kidnapping the peoples children, and now we are murdering their elderly. In their own homes no less." Belric paced back and forth, "I can't worry about this now, I need you with me tomorrow when we take Harrenhal. We will deal with what is to become of you another time." He turned to walk back inside, pausing before he entered the door. "Go give the old man a propper burial, perhaps we can convince the people it was an accident and they won't see you as the remorseless killer you are." Belric did not say it as an insult, only a statement of fact. "It ain' murdering if da bastard deserved it. Look at poor Violet, she didn't deserve to be treated like tha', tis was swift justice, nephew." Hoster stated, not even bothering to care a couple fucks about the man. "They wouldn't respect us if we didn't do it. Take da Lannisters, do ye think they'd let any ol' bugger show his wrinkled dong to their youngest girl? Or da Tully's? Wha' woul' Bi'ersteel do, were it his sistah?" He didn't say this in disapproval of Belric's standing, this sounded more like a consolation than anything else. "But aye, ah'll giv' da bugger a propah burial, if tha' wha' ye order, m'lord." To him, it didn't make no difference, bury, hang, whatever. But if Lord Belric thought it was the best thing to do, he'd put his men to the work. Hoster bowed and left towards the hovel.
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Post by Ser Willis Blackfort on Jun 8, 2016 14:06:38 GMT
"Hoster ain't wrong. The man laid an unkind hand on a noblewoman. Might be that a trial would've been better, but no one's gonna think killing him wasn't gonna be the end result, anyway. Can't let the smallfolk think we're soft."
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Post by Tim of Raventree on Jun 8, 2016 17:27:53 GMT
While the men were talking, Violet used the opportunity to head up to her room where she burst into tears. She didn't want to see anyone at the moment, not her family and not the innkeeper.
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Barley
High Lord
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Post by Barley on Jun 8, 2016 18:05:19 GMT
"Whatever you are talking about," Saesha said, looking at the two men, as apparently they were talking inside now, , "right now, in this place, at this time, it is not the time to talk about it."
she he walked to Valarr, "I would like to see a larger and up to date map of Harrenhal."
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