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<blockquote data-quote="Cor Azer" data-source="post: 5829458" data-attributes="member: 870"><p>Maester Karlon gives the wounded soldier a small wooden wedge wrapped in leather. "Bite. Hard."</p><p></p><p>As the man grunts, the maester shifts his leg, straightening it so that bones may set properly. The wooden stick muffles the agonizing groan. <em>At least this man will live,</em> thinks the maester, pausing in his work to look over to the fallen clansmen. <em>A pity such folk couldn't be more civilized. If they'd only bend the knee, they'd find respite in the Vale.</em></p><p></p><p>He stands, and waves over two other soldiers. "He cannot walk on that leg; carry him to my wagon, and I'll watch over him there."</p><p></p><p>"You're not wasting my supplies on a dying man, are you, Karlon?"</p><p></p><p>With a heavy sigh, the maester turns to Ser Gough. "Dying men rarely groan like that, Ser." <em>Which you'd know, were you ever truly in battle.</em></p><p></p><p>Disregarding any look the rotund knight may be giving him, Karlon finishes gathering his materials, and begins walking back to his wagon. Lady Palla gives him a reassuring smile as he passes, but the young squire Jacelynn - no, she was still dressed as Jace - did not see him; her focus was still on the battlefield. <em>Don't trouble yourself, child. They died as befit their raiding ways,</em> he thinks, but merely pats her knee as he continues on.</p><p></p><p>"Ready to march!"</p><p></p><p>The call echoes around the ruins, and so takes a few minutes for the maester to place it as Ser Patrek rather than Ser Laton. "Wes," he asks as he approaches Ser Gough's squire. "Has Ser Laton been injured? Why is Ser Patrek commanding?"</p><p></p><p>The young Crelling boy shrugs. "I don't think so, Maester. The gossip is that there was an argument; that Ser Patrek invoked the name of Lord Corbray. Ser Laton deferred to him - on Corbray lands, at least."</p><p></p><p><em>An argument? Unlikely.</em> thinks Karlon, recalling the calm demeanor of both men. <em>But perhaps a difference of opinions.</em></p><p></p><p>"Very well then, Wes." He directs the squire up into the driving seat of the wagon. "You'll direct the mules. I need to ride in the back and watch over the wounded soldier.</p><p></p><p>"Yes, Maester."</p><p></p><p>After administering a small dose of milk of the poppy, the soldier was resting peacefully. Karlon sits back as the wagon began to move, and the sounds filtering into the wagon are those of a caravan, marching down a simple road. His eyes begin to droop, as the rhythmic rocking of the wagon begins to sap the strength from his already tired bones.</p><p></p><p>"SER!"</p><p></p><p>Karlon wakes with a start. <em>What?</em> "Oh my..." <em>How long have I - </em></p><p></p><p>"Ser Patrek!"</p><p></p><p>"Fetch the maester!"</p><p></p><p>Karlon is already stepping out of his wagon when Ser Patrek's squire Joff comes running. It is later in the day - the Corbray banners of Heart's Home can be seen flying above the forest canopy on a distant hill. The maester shakes his head to regain focus - the squire is babbling.</p><p></p><p>"Ser Patrek... he... just collapsed! He fell from his horse!"</p><p></p><p>The maester follows Joff back to the fallen knight, through a throng of people that cannot seem to decide whether to thin or gather.</p><p></p><p>He frowns as he stands above the knight, noticing the lack of chest movement. With practiced thoroughness, he kneels beside the man, but his examination is brief.</p><p></p><p>"I can do nothing for him. Ser Patrek is dead, my lords."</p><p></p><p>[ooc]Ok, trying to move this along. I can certainly see why GRRM gets so bogged down - it's really easy to keep introducing plot threads, but sometimes, they gotta be trimmed down. When you respond, feel free to either be in "the present" or "in the past" - during the ride or finishing off something back at the ruins. That's why I left the trip mostly vague.[/ooc]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Cor Azer, post: 5829458, member: 870"] Maester Karlon gives the wounded soldier a small wooden wedge wrapped in leather. "Bite. Hard." As the man grunts, the maester shifts his leg, straightening it so that bones may set properly. The wooden stick muffles the agonizing groan. [i]At least this man will live,[/i] thinks the maester, pausing in his work to look over to the fallen clansmen. [i]A pity such folk couldn't be more civilized. If they'd only bend the knee, they'd find respite in the Vale.[/i] He stands, and waves over two other soldiers. "He cannot walk on that leg; carry him to my wagon, and I'll watch over him there." "You're not wasting my supplies on a dying man, are you, Karlon?" With a heavy sigh, the maester turns to Ser Gough. "Dying men rarely groan like that, Ser." [i]Which you'd know, were you ever truly in battle.[/i] Disregarding any look the rotund knight may be giving him, Karlon finishes gathering his materials, and begins walking back to his wagon. Lady Palla gives him a reassuring smile as he passes, but the young squire Jacelynn - no, she was still dressed as Jace - did not see him; her focus was still on the battlefield. [i]Don't trouble yourself, child. They died as befit their raiding ways,[/i] he thinks, but merely pats her knee as he continues on. "Ready to march!" The call echoes around the ruins, and so takes a few minutes for the maester to place it as Ser Patrek rather than Ser Laton. "Wes," he asks as he approaches Ser Gough's squire. "Has Ser Laton been injured? Why is Ser Patrek commanding?" The young Crelling boy shrugs. "I don't think so, Maester. The gossip is that there was an argument; that Ser Patrek invoked the name of Lord Corbray. Ser Laton deferred to him - on Corbray lands, at least." [i]An argument? Unlikely.[/i] thinks Karlon, recalling the calm demeanor of both men. [i]But perhaps a difference of opinions.[/i] "Very well then, Wes." He directs the squire up into the driving seat of the wagon. "You'll direct the mules. I need to ride in the back and watch over the wounded soldier. "Yes, Maester." After administering a small dose of milk of the poppy, the soldier was resting peacefully. Karlon sits back as the wagon began to move, and the sounds filtering into the wagon are those of a caravan, marching down a simple road. His eyes begin to droop, as the rhythmic rocking of the wagon begins to sap the strength from his already tired bones. "SER!" Karlon wakes with a start. [i]What?[/i] "Oh my..." [i]How long have I - [/i] "Ser Patrek!" "Fetch the maester!" Karlon is already stepping out of his wagon when Ser Patrek's squire Joff comes running. It is later in the day - the Corbray banners of Heart's Home can be seen flying above the forest canopy on a distant hill. The maester shakes his head to regain focus - the squire is babbling. "Ser Patrek... he... just collapsed! He fell from his horse!" The maester follows Joff back to the fallen knight, through a throng of people that cannot seem to decide whether to thin or gather. He frowns as he stands above the knight, noticing the lack of chest movement. With practiced thoroughness, he kneels beside the man, but his examination is brief. "I can do nothing for him. Ser Patrek is dead, my lords." [ooc]Ok, trying to move this along. I can certainly see why GRRM gets so bogged down - it's really easy to keep introducing plot threads, but sometimes, they gotta be trimmed down. When you respond, feel free to either be in "the present" or "in the past" - during the ride or finishing off something back at the ruins. That's why I left the trip mostly vague.[/ooc] [/QUOTE]
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