ASoIaF RPG - A Tourney of Gulls IC
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Roy looks taken aback."S-s-s-ser?"
He stops, with an obvious effort to stop stuttering. Haken gestures at a table, and Roy sits heavily. Joff stands behind him.
Haken repeats the question.
"W-well, sir, it's not like I r-really saw everything, and I d-d-don't want t-to get anyone in trouble."
Haken sighs, and sits straighter. Sometimes memory took a little encouraging, no matter what that did to his headache.
"You can tell me, lad. I can see you have no blood on you, so you didn't do it. But if we want to know what happened, we need you to tell us what you saw. Even if it wasn't everything. You're all we have. You have to tell us."
Roy nods.
"W-well, ser, what I saw was this. A man came in and said something to the stableboy. The stableboy, he didn't seem to like it, an' said no. He grabbed the boy and hit him. Or maybe he grabbed him before he said something, I can't quite be sure, like. Anyway, the stableboy went down, and some other man came running over. Maybe he was going to help, I don't rightly know. Anyway the first man, he says "You don't know what you just saw!" and he smacks the new guy across the face. And the stableboy, his heads gone kinda soggy, I don't know how to say it, but like it's not the right shape anymore."
"Then another man comes in, pulls his sword, an' the first man and the new one they start fighting with swords. Now, I can't remember which one had his sword out first, but I think it was the first man, and they start going for it."
He shakes his head, and wipes the tears out of his eyes.
"The first man, he just seemed to play with him, Ser. The new man didn't seem to get a decent hit on him, and by the end, the first man had chopped him up. He slit his throat, Ser. And it was like it wasn't enough for him. He just stalks out of the barn, looking for the man he'd hit after the stableboy, like he was huntin' him down or something. And I can still hear the words he was sayin'. He was saying he weren't no Ser."
He shook his head.
"Me cousin, well, me father's brother's son, anyway, he was a hunter, Ser, and he told me about weasels. Little vicious basta-, I mean, vicious wee sods, Ser, that's what he said. Never really understood him 'til I saw that man tonight."
He raised his eyes from the table and looked Haken in the eyes.
"He was a like a human weasel, Ser. That's what he reminded me of. Not just what he did, but the way he did it, and the way he hissed his words, and went out to hunt the man he'd hurt earlier. And that's why I stayed in the hay, deep as I could. Compared to him, Ser, I'm a big fat rabbit. Maybe if he didn't have a sword, if it was like a bar-room brawl, maybe I'd have a chance, but even then..."
He dropped his eyes to the table again.
"He killed a knight, Ser. Me, I'm a blacksmith. Was a miner. Him in armor, me in clothes? Even if I had me leathers on, it'd be just the same. Dead rabbit, Ser. So I stayed there, an' I didn't move, didn't want 'im to see me. And he just left that man on the floor, throat open, blood pooling all around him."
He raised his eyes again, this time fiercely.
"Mebbe that makes me a coward, Ser. I don' know. Mebbe if I was in me leathers, with a mining hammer in me hand, mebbe then I woulda done something. But I wasn't dressed, an' I don' have me old hammer. My knuckledusters wouldn't have been much good against a sword. So I stayed quiet, an' a man died. What should I have done?"
Haken sat there, and looked at the lad.
"I'm not a Ser either, lad."
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Gurthngwaw
First Post
"Well, cousin, it seems he don't wanna talk to us. Maybe he could write it down then so it wouldnt be like he was talkin to us?" Mhyrko eyes the sellsword.
"Or maybe he needs a little convincing? I'm sure we can fine a way to...open him up?"
"Or maybe he needs a little convincing? I'm sure we can fine a way to...open him up?"
Buck forward; head to stomach. Steward crumples.
Spin on knees; chair legs clip knight's ankle and knees - no armor, but probably little damage - but at least tripped up.
Kick down to push up, ramming chair into the new guy - smells like dog - crushing him into the wall...
Halberd offs my head
Agorn frowns. Another scenario is tossed. Stranger take that damned guard. A fifth escape attempt starts brewing in his thoughts, but he discards it almost immediately. The guard is too far away to take out with the initial strike, and the halberd negates that distance problem for his gaoler. Pate he thinks, forcing himself to recall the guard's name. I'm better than that cowardly lion. I know my enemies' names. He stares at the guard, idly hoping that a guard named Sleepy Pate would sudden nod off like some noble fop after a night in a brothel. No... he thinks, No, you threatened my person. I will deal with...
Eh now, what did that dog one say? He gaze shifts, quickly playing back the conversation in his head to catch the master of hounds' words. Mhyrko. He's new... no... he just caught up with them. A scout likely... Most likely he'll find Wylke. Him or his hounds. Agorn had heard the dogs outside, but had hoped that weren't part of the House Vantri group.
"Write it down?" Agorn spits at the thought. "What are you? Some kind of maester. Servant to men better than you? Men of action don't need papers. We have steel."
"And you think you can open me up?" Agorn smiles his toothy smirk. "Yes, I caught your meaning, you clever clod. Open me, get me to talk... or open me up with that guard's halberd. Aye, I know how you think. Do I think you might actually follow through?"
"Ser Jarl - a knight, and not one of them hedge ones - he wouldn't stain his honor."
"Robin - a squeamish little fellow - wouldn't know a sword from a stick."
"You - Mhyrko," says the sellsword, stretching out the name almost obscenely. "You are a paper tiger. Bluster and bravado. You skulk in the woods looking for threats, but then run back to your lord's skirts for his protection."
Agorn jerks his head at Pate, rudely, but almost with a hint of respect. "Pate there is the only one of you with the stones to do what's needed. Man has no illusions about this world. We live. You kill. Someone dies. Just how it is." He turns to looks back at Ser Jarl and Mhyrko. "But you highborn can pretend that stuff don't happen. You live like you're better than the smallfolk, but when you need dirty work done, you'll heap praise on them; maybe even offer to change their lives."
He looks to Robin. "They offer you some knight's castoff daughter? Say they'll find a respectable match for you?"
"And you," he says, looking to Pate. "What'll you get? Your spurs some day? A big, bold knight like Ser Jarl, here?"
"It doesn't matter," he says, dropping his gaze back to Ser Jarl. "Ser here won't do anything. You can threaten me all you like, but I know you won't do what you want. Honor and all that dung fed to little girls in their songs." He chuckles. "Quite the scheme you all have going. You can pretend your honor is all that. Pretend that you're doing to world a favor by showing mercy. And then a wink. A nod. Sleepy Pate there offs my head. Says I twitched or something. Maybe you pretend to believe him. Maybe you don't. Either way, you say he's some smallfolk guard, acting on his own."
He looks to Pate. "Should have been a sellsword, friend. Trust only the coin your paid. These ones will drop you faster than a lady drops her skirts at her wedding. You're not a noble like them. What do they care about you? Keeping you about doesn't put another boy in some whore of a lady's womb. It doesn't further... " He pauses, but continues with contempt dripping from his lips. "The House."
Agorn is about to say more, but he hears footsteps in the hallway. What now?
The door creaks open, and Haken pokes his head in. "Ser Jarl?" The guard speaks softly, trying not to let the sellsword hear, but Agorn's ears are too good. "Ser Patrek's men found another witness in the barn. An apprentice smith was hiding in the hay. I don't know if you remember Roy Stone - he worked in the mines a few years ago. Now he's learning to smith."
In the hay? Agorn curses his luck and starts mulling over this new development. He wasn't sure if these ones were cunning enough to make up a witness, but he didn't think so. Thought it was just the stableboy. Seven hells, why couldn't that boy just done as he was told. Just a taste and all this would have been... The sellsword spits. No. No, I'm not like these other lords. I don't wish and complain. I make things happen. These Vale lordlings and knights won't stand in the way of my vengeance.
"So, Ser Jarl. You have a witness. Am I to have a trial?"
Spin on knees; chair legs clip knight's ankle and knees - no armor, but probably little damage - but at least tripped up.
Kick down to push up, ramming chair into the new guy - smells like dog - crushing him into the wall...
Halberd offs my head
Agorn frowns. Another scenario is tossed. Stranger take that damned guard. A fifth escape attempt starts brewing in his thoughts, but he discards it almost immediately. The guard is too far away to take out with the initial strike, and the halberd negates that distance problem for his gaoler. Pate he thinks, forcing himself to recall the guard's name. I'm better than that cowardly lion. I know my enemies' names. He stares at the guard, idly hoping that a guard named Sleepy Pate would sudden nod off like some noble fop after a night in a brothel. No... he thinks, No, you threatened my person. I will deal with...
Eh now, what did that dog one say? He gaze shifts, quickly playing back the conversation in his head to catch the master of hounds' words. Mhyrko. He's new... no... he just caught up with them. A scout likely... Most likely he'll find Wylke. Him or his hounds. Agorn had heard the dogs outside, but had hoped that weren't part of the House Vantri group.
"Write it down?" Agorn spits at the thought. "What are you? Some kind of maester. Servant to men better than you? Men of action don't need papers. We have steel."
"And you think you can open me up?" Agorn smiles his toothy smirk. "Yes, I caught your meaning, you clever clod. Open me, get me to talk... or open me up with that guard's halberd. Aye, I know how you think. Do I think you might actually follow through?"
"Ser Jarl - a knight, and not one of them hedge ones - he wouldn't stain his honor."
"Robin - a squeamish little fellow - wouldn't know a sword from a stick."
"You - Mhyrko," says the sellsword, stretching out the name almost obscenely. "You are a paper tiger. Bluster and bravado. You skulk in the woods looking for threats, but then run back to your lord's skirts for his protection."
Agorn jerks his head at Pate, rudely, but almost with a hint of respect. "Pate there is the only one of you with the stones to do what's needed. Man has no illusions about this world. We live. You kill. Someone dies. Just how it is." He turns to looks back at Ser Jarl and Mhyrko. "But you highborn can pretend that stuff don't happen. You live like you're better than the smallfolk, but when you need dirty work done, you'll heap praise on them; maybe even offer to change their lives."
He looks to Robin. "They offer you some knight's castoff daughter? Say they'll find a respectable match for you?"
"And you," he says, looking to Pate. "What'll you get? Your spurs some day? A big, bold knight like Ser Jarl, here?"
"It doesn't matter," he says, dropping his gaze back to Ser Jarl. "Ser here won't do anything. You can threaten me all you like, but I know you won't do what you want. Honor and all that dung fed to little girls in their songs." He chuckles. "Quite the scheme you all have going. You can pretend your honor is all that. Pretend that you're doing to world a favor by showing mercy. And then a wink. A nod. Sleepy Pate there offs my head. Says I twitched or something. Maybe you pretend to believe him. Maybe you don't. Either way, you say he's some smallfolk guard, acting on his own."
He looks to Pate. "Should have been a sellsword, friend. Trust only the coin your paid. These ones will drop you faster than a lady drops her skirts at her wedding. You're not a noble like them. What do they care about you? Keeping you about doesn't put another boy in some whore of a lady's womb. It doesn't further... " He pauses, but continues with contempt dripping from his lips. "The House."
Agorn is about to say more, but he hears footsteps in the hallway. What now?
The door creaks open, and Haken pokes his head in. "Ser Jarl?" The guard speaks softly, trying not to let the sellsword hear, but Agorn's ears are too good. "Ser Patrek's men found another witness in the barn. An apprentice smith was hiding in the hay. I don't know if you remember Roy Stone - he worked in the mines a few years ago. Now he's learning to smith."
In the hay? Agorn curses his luck and starts mulling over this new development. He wasn't sure if these ones were cunning enough to make up a witness, but he didn't think so. Thought it was just the stableboy. Seven hells, why couldn't that boy just done as he was told. Just a taste and all this would have been... The sellsword spits. No. No, I'm not like these other lords. I don't wish and complain. I make things happen. These Vale lordlings and knights won't stand in the way of my vengeance.
"So, Ser Jarl. You have a witness. Am I to have a trial?"
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ShaggySpellsword
First Post
Pate scowls at the sellsword's words. "Lord Vantri has always been good to me. Guardin' keeps me outta the mines and close to home. If bein' a sellsword means getting up to...whatever it was you were getting up to with the stable-boy before you started brawlin' an' murderin'...I don't expect that life's for me. But if you want and the Sers will it, I'll be happy to be the one to take your head when the time comes.
Unless you had some reason for slaughterin' a helpless stable-boy?
Unless you had some reason for slaughterin' a helpless stable-boy?
Gurthngwaw
First Post
"You seem to have a lot of anger in you. I suppose i would too if i were you. But you have it all wrong. Take Pate for example. True he is not a Vantri by name but he is still a member of the house. As he said he has always been treated well. Ser Jarl, well i don"t think killing you would stain his honor all that much. As for me, I think no more or less of small folk than i do of nobles. All part of the whole picture. And a picture i prefer to view from afar when I have the choice. People like you disgust me. You think you have the right to kill a man because you have the skill to do so. Lords will kill a man because they have the right to judge them but does that mean they have the wisdom to know what is best? Which is the greater evil?" Mhyrko chuckles and smiles an earnest smile. "It seems we both have opened up, eh? I have never run to a lords side for protection. I deal with threats as needed. But always within the law and always as my Lords wish it. You will be brought to justice for what you have done. If that means you are set free without punishment then so be it. I have a hunch that the truth of why we have come to this will prove interesting at the least." Leaning close but just out of range of a headbutt, Mhyrko glares at the prisoner and speaks softly and slowly "But if you think to escape before you are tried, think again. Noone escapes me when I set myself to hunt."
(i think its 18 not 21 i misread the adding of fate)
(i think its 18 not 21 i misread the adding of fate)
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Captain Impossible
First Post
Ser Jarl watches the sellsword eye the group over, like a predator studying a herd for stragglers. "For someone who thinks he's figured it all out, you're missing some facts," the knight says to the captive. "Corbray's men are downstairs. This inn is filled with witnesses, and getting fuller it seems. That is everything needed to take your head, and still holding true to honor, justice, and law. No winks or nods required."
"I am not your enemy," Jarl continues, standing up. "Your condition is beyond that now. You've given us plenty of reasons to have you meet the Stranger. I'd suggest you start given us a reason not to. You've likely thrown away your freedom. If you tell us what you know, it may mean the difference between getting the sword and taking the Black."
Ser Jarl exits the room and heads down to meet this new witness, trying to remember what he may know about the him.
"I am not your enemy," Jarl continues, standing up. "Your condition is beyond that now. You've given us plenty of reasons to have you meet the Stranger. I'd suggest you start given us a reason not to. You've likely thrown away your freedom. If you tell us what you know, it may mean the difference between getting the sword and taking the Black."
Ser Jarl exits the room and heads down to meet this new witness, trying to remember what he may know about the him.
Laton sits across from Ser Gough, trying to keep the fat pig of a man entertained.
He motions the barmaid to keep Ser Gough's glass filled to the brim with the strongest wine available, while sipping from a watered-down glass of wine himself.
"A man of the world like yourself must have travelled to many places, and must have seen some of the most beautifull girls of the whole realm, no?"
He motions the barmaid to keep Ser Gough's glass filled to the brim with the strongest wine available, while sipping from a watered-down glass of wine himself.
"A man of the world like yourself must have travelled to many places, and must have seen some of the most beautifull girls of the whole realm, no?"
