ASoIaF RPG - A Tourney of Gulls IC

[muggie2]

After he leaves, Merrillio pops his head around to see Roy Stone. "Another word of warning. Please fix the wagon, but do not get endebted to Raquinno Teaira."

Roy takes a look at the wheel, and considers the pin that is obviously bent. He squirms a little to see it from all angles. He mutters to himself "I'm a blacksmith, not a cartwright, but if it's the pin at fault, there shouldn't be anything I can't fix. As long as I check it out properly, anyway."
As he slides under the wagon, he thinks on what Merrillio had said. And what he hadn't. It didn't take a Maester to notice that Merrillio was taking a risk in warning him about Raquinno, and given Raquinno's words and attitude in the room, he was more inclined to believe that Merrillio was trustworthy than Raquinno. Which meant that he should be very careful NOT to get into any situation where he could be indebted to Raquinno. Which certainly meant not taking any money until Raquinno had agreed that the wagon wheel was fixed.
He squirms out from underneath the wagon, and goes to see Merrillio.
"I think I can fix it. Still, I don't know it for sure, and I won't until I actually do fix it. I won't take money until Raquinno is satisfied that it is, indeed, fixed. So I'm going to fix it now, and when it's done, I'll go up and tell him. Then he can check it, and pay me if he's satisfied with the work."
With that, he goes back into the inn and brings out his tools. There wasn't enough time (or fuel) to start a decent fire, so he was going to have to cold-forge this one. He props up the wagon so he can remove the pin (and the wheel if need be) and gets to work. Having checked it out, he feels sure he can do it, so he starts into it.

P.S. Note that the roll given for the Athletics roll is incorrect - it does not seem to have removed the two lowest dice, so the correct total should be 22. On the other paw, I forgot to add the cunning roll bonus die so who knows? In any case, a somewhat embarrassing success.

 

[Gurthngwaw]

OOC: ah...should i keep waiting or post on?

 

[Cor Azer]

A cock crows in the distance.

Like a nail being driven into my head.

The white fog seeps into the cracks of his eyes, and the knight slowly looks around the room.

Not the open road at least, he thinks, thankful for the warmth and dryness.

The cock crows again, telling the knight that the hour is still early.

By the Seven, I wish I was a heavy sleeper. Ser Patrek attempts to roll from his bed, but his feet are slow to respond and overswing, so the knight tumbles out and lands on his knees.

"Ser?" asks his squire, more from reflex than wakeful alertness.

"Sleep, Joff. I need to make water."

He trudges to the window and looks out at the morning light filtering through the tree canopy. Huh, seems someone fixed that wagon during the night...

When the cock crows again, Ser Patrek presses the ball of his fist to his temple. "Stranger's luck," he curses. Too early for milk yet...

By the time Ser Patrek is done, his squire is up, dressed in simple livery, and scurried off to fetch his knight breakfast. Although the knight moves slowly about the room, his mind slowly begins to focus as his men relate the happenings of the evening, a new witness in the barn, the Vantri knights questioning the sellsword, the elderly Ser Rolston being rendered mute, and a rumor of a mysterious lady and a squire protector squirreled away in another room - probably some knight's mistress, if she's got a squire as a protector.

Findign his squire's extended absence irritating, Ser Patrek makes his way down to the common room, where he finds Joff sitting soaked with cow's milk, two upended buckets beside him, and a bar wench trying to stifle a laugh while acting apologetically.

"Joff?"

"I'm sorry, Ser; it was this wench's fault - she threw her milk at me!"

"I did not, Ser. I was carrying it back to the kitchen when your man barged in without a word! He's not supposed to-"

"Liar!" shouts the squire, not seeming to notice his noise is drawing even more stares from the common room. "Liar! Liar! You did this on purpose! You -"

A cuff on the side of the head shuts his mouth. "Enough. Go get cleaned up, or you'll reek all day."

"But she-"

"I don't care, Joff. I've got a headache already and the roosters just finished crowing."

The sulking squire squirms to his feet and stomps off, throwing a withering glare are the girl. "My apologies, girl. That was ill-mannered of my squire. Tell Wat that I'll pay for the milk. And bring me breakfast out in the common room when you get a chance, thank you."

"Thank you, Ser," says the girl, curtsying as gracefully as any noble lady, before slipping into the ktichen for a mop and bucket of water.

The common room had several guards within, mostly House Vantri, but at least one of the Corbray men travelling with Ser Patrek was eating, and the Pentoshi merchant sat at a table with three of his sellswords, counting out a stack of silver stags for a young but stout lad.

The knight looked around, but didn't see any of the Vantri kin. He spots one of the house Vantri sarjeants, and nods in greeting.

"You lords, sarjeant? Where might I find them this morning; I was hoping to talk to them before they leave."

Haken finishes his mouthful of beer-soaked bread, and points back to the rooms. "I suspect Ser Laton and Ser Jarl are in their rooms. Mhyrko is likely off for a morning swim to wash off the night sweat - the man is not made for inns, castles, or cities," he adds smiling. "I'm sure they'll be along soon."

OOC: Roy Stone is paid 3 silver stags for his successful work on Raquinno's wagon.

 

[Captain Impossible]

Ser Jarl sat silently on his bed, dressed for the ride ahead of him. His hands rested on his knees, his expression lost in thought. Last night's sleep had been restful after all he head been through, but he remembered fragments of a dream that trouble him. It was of an infant falling off a precipice. The knight knew it was anxiety over Lady Pallas. Laton wanted to divulge everything about the last night to Ser Patrek. The sellsword wasn't much of a concern after the night's rest. Even if everything he said was true, there was much to condemn him for.

The issue of the pregnant lady and her child bothered him. Ser Patrek was honorable, he believed. But it seemed that Pallas' father was opposed to the idea of his daughter marrying beneath the family, and the uncle currently holding sway of the Weatherly household would not welcome this threat to his control. Either one might be tempted to end such a threat by means fair or foul. The lady, the unborn child, and her 'squire' where all in grave danger. How to protect them?

Fragments of plans drifted in his head. Locate the Septon? Convince Laton? Make some declaration at the tournament? Loughton was the planner of the family. Unfortunately, he was back at Splinterhold. What would honor dictate? Law or justice?

His eyes drifted to his bastard sword and shield. There was always trial by combat. It may come down to it. He strapped the sword to his baldric and walked out his room.

 

[muggie2]

Roy vaguely noticed others coming down for breakfast, but he was more interested in the small stack of silvers that Raquinno was counting out for him.
The merchant was, predictably, not happy at having to pay, and was probably paying less than he thought it was worth, but while three silvers probably wouldn't be much for any of the others in the room, for him it would go a long way toward replenishing the meager stack of silvers he'd once had.
The payment made, he nodded respectfully to Raquinno, and went off to get himself some breakfast. At the rate the others were coming down for breakfast, he might get a chance to talk to some of the other Vantri men, especially the guards, about what sort of armor they'd recommend for him. He had been thinking about riveting plates of iron to the outside of his hard leather, but if someone could suggest something better, he'd certainly consider it. After what he'd seen the previous night, he didn't want to risk getting caught unarmored. If a knight could be cut down so quickly, what chance did a blacksmith have? He may as well use his skills and make something that could protect him better - travelling to a tourney could be as dangerous as fighting in the tourney itself. He smiled to himself. When he was younger, he'd dreamed of fighting in a tournament. He'd never dreamed that it could be this dangerous just *travelling* to a tournament.
He looked down at his plate and was surprised to see it was empty. It was lucky he'd fallen in with them at this point. He hoped it wasn't another growth spurt coming on - if it was, maybe he wouldn't even fit his armor!
He looked around the room to see who was there that might be useful to talk to.

 

[DrZombie]

Laton comes down the stairs, yawning after a night of tossing and turning. He sees his uncle, and Ser Patrick. Thank the Seven that that fat oaf is still asleep. That at least is one thing less to worry about. For now...

"Ser Patrick? I'd be honored if you could be so kind as to join me and my uncle for breakfast. Somewhere quiet, preferably, for we have a few things to discuss that concern you and your Lord" He says quietly but directly when he approaches the table.

The three men wait untill the serving girl leaves their table. Laton is a bit unsure how to begin, frowning and trying to carefully pick his words.

"Let us start with the least difficult of our problems. Yesterday a sellsword attacked a knight here in the stables. We have him in custody, but it is not our place to dispense justice. The case does not seem so simple, though. The sellsword claims it was an act of vengeance after he had been wronged and betrayed by the Golden Lions. A few of my men have been trying to get the truth out of him, and seem convinced that he might have a case. Perchance he could be sent to the wall instead of being hanged. But, again, these are not our lands, and it is not our place to judge him."

He hesitates, then plunges onwards.

"Yesterday we came upon a lady and her squire. The lady had fallen of her horse and lost consciousness. But all was not as it appeared. The lady was pregnant, the squire was actually her sister-in-law dressed up as a squire to protect her. She claimed the lady married her brother in secret against the wishes of her father. Her brother, the ladies husband, was a knight barely above the stature of a hedge-knight named Weatherly. The unborn child appears to be the heir of the house. The father's uncle now rules the house, and according to the sister is hostile towards all those that might displace him. Before we knew the ladies true identity I pledged to protect her."

Laton pauses to catch his breath.

"Two complications arise. The first is that the lady in question is the daughter of your liegelord, the Lady Palla. The second is that the interminable lecher and gossip 'Ser' Gough Crelling has gotten wind of it. I had to challenge him to a duel before he backed off yesterday."

Laton leans back in his chair, relieved now that all is out in the open.

"It stands beyond doubt that I will not renege on my word. Should the lady find no welcome at her fathers hearth after all that has transpired, I will do my best to protect her. But her father should know of this and decide what to do. "

 

[Gurthngwaw]

Cool running water. Few things are so relaxing. "if only it would wash away the problems with the dirt" he said out loud to the girls splashing in the stream around him. "You girls have it lucky, not a care in the world. living moment to moment and one day at a time." They look at him with huge eyes and long wagging tongues. "lets go ladies. The sleepy lords will soon rise and remember the troubles that come with titles." Mhyrko swims out of the stream and wrings out his clothes before dressing and collecting his weapons. The hounds shake off much of the water back into his clothing and the three chase each other through the woods to the inn. Setting the hounds to watch outside, Mhyrko enters the inn and looks about to see who is already gathered. He smiles to his family and heads to the serving wench. "two large cuts of meat, raw. one large helping of whatever is for breakfast." he waits for the girl to return, watching his cousins for any sign they might give of the mornings prospects.

 

[Cor Azer]

Ser Patrek drops his forehead into his palms and tenses. Ser Laton's story would have given him a headache even if they weren't his constant companions.

"That... that is quite a tale for one short trip, Ser. I can honestly say I do not envy your last day."

He lifts his head and sighs in slight relief.

"At least one problem is easily solved. The sellsword Agorn will be taken to Heart's Home, and there he can plead whatever case he wishes to Lord Corbray. And if he wishes trial by combat, I'm sure Ser Lyn will stand against him. Lady Forlorn has not wept blood for some time."

He quaffs a large mug of beer while gathering his thoughts.

"As for the Lady Palla..."

On cue, a demure cough sounds from the hallway, where the young lady herself stands, remarkably beautiful for a woman who slept in a inn the night before. Jacelyn stands behind her just a step, casting a wary glance around the common room.

Ser Patrek eyes the lady appreciatively, and barely stops from shaking his head at her rounding belly. He glances momentarily at the maid dressed as a squire to her side, and nods, noting a few nearly-hidden, but tell-tale signs of her femininity.

For her part, Jacelyn returns his stare, and her eyes widen as she realizes the purpose of his look. She furrows her brow and flashes an angry and betrayed look at Ser Laton.

Palla assertively steps forward, hushing any response Jacelyn may have been about to make. "If it please, Sers, I should like to be a part of any discussion of my future. Jace, my squire and guardian, has thanked House Vantri for its aid, but I should like to do so myself."

She smiles pleasantly, and bows a well-practiced curtsy.

 

[DrZombie]

"Good morning, mylady". Laton politely replies. "I have tried to explain your situation to the best of my abilities, as told me by your sister-in-law. But as main protagonist you may be able to fill in the blanks somewhat."

 

[Gurthngwaw]

When the wench returns, Mhyrko gives her a smile and a few coins and asks her to take the breakfast up to Pate who is still silently on guard. He then takes the meat outside to feed the hounds. As they happily tear into their food he heads to the stables to see to the horses, nodding to whomever is now watching over the corbray groups mounts. Mhyrko gets all their horses ready for the ride to come and washes up before returning to the inn for a small bowl of something hot for himself. He sits by the main door and calls for some drink to wash it down with.