Gurthngwaw
First Post
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ASoIaF RPG - A Tourney of Gulls IC
- Thread starter Cor Azer
- Start date
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Agorn sneers derisively as Ser Jarl exits the room. "No, I haven't figured everything out. But I'm learning, and I plan to go on learning."
He snorts.
"I'm not the only one who doesn't have all the facts; only difference is that I'm not telling you what I know."
The sellsword's tooth grin returns. "Want to know what I learned?" He looks to Mhyrko, and then nods at the wall. "I learned these walls aren't too thick, and my ears are pretty good. I learned your Ser Jarl isn't too cunning, letting me know there are Corbray men here after that bastard guard mentioned Ser Patrek..."
"See, a sellsword lives by learning, and before I came near Heart's Home, I learned Lord Lyonel's swords, and there's only one Patrek - Ravensblood. Decent sword, bad for headaches, always carries his shield high in a joust."
He drops his voice to barely above a whisper. "Heard guards outside talking about a missing Lynderly girl earlier, and as I'm not one to trust coincidences, I'm guessing they're looking for the pregnant one Ser Gough named in the common room. Now, usually the Vantri are all friendly with the Corbrays so I'm keen to learn why you'd risk all that by not telling them you have the girl they're looking for."
Louder, he continues, "Now, I could tell them. Might be that Ser Patrek might trust me a little more than the knights who lied to him. That... That would be something to learn."
He leans back in his chair as best he can. "You know what happened in that barn. I never denied it. But your witness in the hay? Your half-blind squire? Your bleeding knight? What do they know? Nothing worthwhile. You know the what, but not a one of you know the why. And really, it's the why that's important."
Agorn shrugs, having made his point. "Without the why, you're not doing justice. It's just murder."
He snorts.
"I'm not the only one who doesn't have all the facts; only difference is that I'm not telling you what I know."
The sellsword's tooth grin returns. "Want to know what I learned?" He looks to Mhyrko, and then nods at the wall. "I learned these walls aren't too thick, and my ears are pretty good. I learned your Ser Jarl isn't too cunning, letting me know there are Corbray men here after that bastard guard mentioned Ser Patrek..."
"See, a sellsword lives by learning, and before I came near Heart's Home, I learned Lord Lyonel's swords, and there's only one Patrek - Ravensblood. Decent sword, bad for headaches, always carries his shield high in a joust."
He drops his voice to barely above a whisper. "Heard guards outside talking about a missing Lynderly girl earlier, and as I'm not one to trust coincidences, I'm guessing they're looking for the pregnant one Ser Gough named in the common room. Now, usually the Vantri are all friendly with the Corbrays so I'm keen to learn why you'd risk all that by not telling them you have the girl they're looking for."
Louder, he continues, "Now, I could tell them. Might be that Ser Patrek might trust me a little more than the knights who lied to him. That... That would be something to learn."
He leans back in his chair as best he can. "You know what happened in that barn. I never denied it. But your witness in the hay? Your half-blind squire? Your bleeding knight? What do they know? Nothing worthwhile. You know the what, but not a one of you know the why. And really, it's the why that's important."
Agorn shrugs, having made his point. "Without the why, you're not doing justice. It's just murder."
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Haken accompanies Ser Jarl back down to the common room to see Roy Stone. He says nothing, as the knight walks silently, obviously contemplating something in his own thoughts. The sarjeant nods pleasantly when he enters the room, seeing Roy sitting before a healthy meal. Poor lad has probably been lacking a good meal the last while, seeing how he saw fit to try to bunk in the stable.
He has to roll his eyes though, as he catches Ser Gough regaling Ser Laton with a tale of some number of Braavosi courtesans, the rotund knight oblivious to the distaste his tale leaves in his lady Dawlyn.
He harumphs, cutting off his current story mid-compromising position.
"Say now, Ser Laton?" He raises one bushy eyebrow inquisitively. "Why the sudden interest in my conquests? I'm not so naive as all that - you didn't seem so into my stories whilst on the road, only now that Ser... Ser Patrek, " he adds after a moment, snapping his fingers as he remembers. "Yes, only after Ser Patrek arrived asking about a different girl." He leans in, a wistful conspiratorial look on his face, "I wonder why you don't tell him about the Lady Palla we found on the road, hmmm?" He smiles invitingly, "We're all friends here - comrades-in-arms, no less! Share, share! Surely you know some savory gossip about this Lynderly girl that you're choosing not to tell Ser Patrek yet."
His jowls shake as he chuckles, and he carefully points at the younger knight. "You. Oh for shame!," he teases, "Tell me your not the bastard's father!"
He has to roll his eyes though, as he catches Ser Gough regaling Ser Laton with a tale of some number of Braavosi courtesans, the rotund knight oblivious to the distaste his tale leaves in his lady Dawlyn.
He harumphs, cutting off his current story mid-compromising position.
"Say now, Ser Laton?" He raises one bushy eyebrow inquisitively. "Why the sudden interest in my conquests? I'm not so naive as all that - you didn't seem so into my stories whilst on the road, only now that Ser... Ser Patrek, " he adds after a moment, snapping his fingers as he remembers. "Yes, only after Ser Patrek arrived asking about a different girl." He leans in, a wistful conspiratorial look on his face, "I wonder why you don't tell him about the Lady Palla we found on the road, hmmm?" He smiles invitingly, "We're all friends here - comrades-in-arms, no less! Share, share! Surely you know some savory gossip about this Lynderly girl that you're choosing not to tell Ser Patrek yet."
His jowls shake as he chuckles, and he carefully points at the younger knight. "You. Oh for shame!," he teases, "Tell me your not the bastard's father!"
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Roy was looking at the meal in front of him with mixed feelings. It was, to be sure, the best meal he'd had for a long time, but the things he was seeing and hearing, added to what he'd already seen and heard, were trying to drown out the demands of his stomach. They'd taken him back to the stable "to get his things", but he was pretty sure they'd wanted to check out his story. The sight that greeted them on the floor of the stables pretty much took away any tendency toward disbelieving him. He wasn't sure whether they sneered at his possessions when he dug them out from behind the hay, but he expected they would have if they hadn't been a trifle distracted by the blood.
Back in the common room, they'd asked him if he was hungry, and he;d been unable to deny it. But for all that, what he was seeing and hearing were rapidly eating into his shock at seeing the knight so easily taken down in the stables.
He'd always been brought up to believe that knights were the best fighters around, but the sellsword had made the knight look weak. Well, he was old, for a knight, and unarmored to boot, but his skills just hadn't been in the same league. And after all the tales of chivalry and nobility, the sight of a young knight hanging on the words of a blubber-jowled old glutton while the older man talked of his dalliances with courtesans while stuffing himself full of food and drink until it dripped off his chins, that was just, well, wrong.
From high regard, he was starting to veer towards contempt for some of the knights. They couldn't all be like that, surely. Could they?
He thought about it unhappily, as he tucked into his food. His eyes flicked around the room, hoping for some distraction from his increasingly uncomfortable thoughts. Armor, he thought, think about the armor. The old knight wasn't wearing his, and he was taken apart. What he himself had was shabby in comparison to what he could see here and there, even though not everyone was wearing theirs. If he wanted to avoid a rather messy fate, it would be a good idea to see if anyone was wearing anything that might give him some ideas about how to improve his own. He obviously couldn't rely on knightly protection & justice the way he'd always dreamed, or even, as he took a long glance at the glutton knight and his companion, knightly nobility. Yet for all that, the squire had tried to intervene to protect a stableboy, and the knight had been willing to put his life on the line to protect his squire. Haken obviously thought well of the House, or he wouldn't work for them as conscientiously as he did. He looked down at his plate and was surprised to see it empty. Well, whatever else a person may think of the House, at least they'd fed him and treated him gently. He straightened his shoulders. The shock of what he'd seen was less vivid, somehow, with a meal sitting warm in his belly. Yes, some of the knights may be less than he'd always believed, in nobility and in fighting skill, but the House was more than that.
And yet, he had the feeling that it was down to him to defend himself, and that was still kinda uncomfortable.
Gurthngwaw
First Post
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Mhyrko nods as the sellsword continues to reveal hmself. Realizing there is more to this man than they first suspected, perhaps a different approach might be met with more success than the current exchange has. Maybe they can make a deal? Maybe his actions were justified? We shall see.
Gurthngwaw
First Post
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Captain Impossible
First Post
Ser Jarl looked over the common room. He saw the boy who had been hiding in the stable, a large lad with obvious strength. The knight recognized Roy Stone, and remembered the cave-in. Roy had lost the only father he ever knew.
At another table, Ser Gough was talking with Laton. The glutton's inquisitive look told Ser Jarl that the Crelling knew something was up and wanted answers. A sellsword trying to worm his way out of his bonds. A debauched oaf rooting around the Lady's secrets. Corbray's bannerman sleeping in the same inn. It was too many daggers to juggle.
He needed to find out what the boy knew, then help Laton pacify Ser Gough. Hopefully, Robin would be able to pry some information out of the sellsword. Ser Jarl sat down at the boy's table.
"Roy, it is unexpected seeing you here. It would be joyous if not for this night's terrible circumstances. How did you come to this inn?"
At another table, Ser Gough was talking with Laton. The glutton's inquisitive look told Ser Jarl that the Crelling knew something was up and wanted answers. A sellsword trying to worm his way out of his bonds. A debauched oaf rooting around the Lady's secrets. Corbray's bannerman sleeping in the same inn. It was too many daggers to juggle.
He needed to find out what the boy knew, then help Laton pacify Ser Gough. Hopefully, Robin would be able to pry some information out of the sellsword. Ser Jarl sat down at the boy's table.
"Roy, it is unexpected seeing you here. It would be joyous if not for this night's terrible circumstances. How did you come to this inn?"
Roy looked at him, and tried to decide whether he was honestly asking, or trying some fancy thinking on him. Either way he was going to get the same answer, but how much of it he'd get depended on the reactions he saw.
He wiped the last of the food off the plate with the remains of the bread, and answered, bread in hand.
"Well, Ser, they let me go at the mines, 'cause they didn't need another blacksmith, and I still wasn't too fond of goin' back down into the deeps. So I put together me stuff, an' headed out. I figured there was no point going to a castle or a town. 'cause there's no work for journeymen in places like that. Villages that don't have a regular smith have a few jobs, or so I was told, but it seems there ain't no villages without a smith around here.
I helped a merchant caravan for a bit, doin' the heavy stuff, and woulda reshoed one of the horses that was starting to go lame, but they didn't want to stop to give me time to build a forge so I could get the metal hot enough.The next inn they got to, they decided they didn't need me after all. I think they'd decided I was some kind of brigand who was trying to set them up for an attack, and decided to politely let me go rather than take a risk."
He stopped for a second.
"I don't know why they thought that. I mean, I'm a blacksmith. It's not like I'm dangerous or anything."
He took a mouthful of the bread, and chewed on it for a bit.
"So, anyway, there I was at the inn. I got a bit of work with horses needing to be reshoed, and it turned out there were a few things arouhnd the place that needed a bit of fixing, but soon enough there was nothing to do, and I heard about a tourney. Well, I figured that there'd be a lot of short-term demand for work, with horses to shoe, maybe armor to take the dents out of, and maybe even some weapons to repair, or even make, if I was lucky. So I headed off that way, only I got a bit lost, and ended up trying to ford a river that, well.."
He coughed, and finished the rest of the bread, washing it down with an ale.
"Anyway, to cut things short, I kinda over-estimated how strong I was, and under-estimated the river. Lost about 30 pounds of iron scrap, and my 8-pound hammer with it. Saved everything else though. So there I was, wet through, and with rain heading in. I figured there was more chance of shelter this way, and a couple of hundred paces further on, I ran across the road that led me here."
He sighed.
"Now, if I'd just been a bit more persistent about following the river before deciding to cross, I'd be in better shape. Me da always said I should look before I leap. Don't think he meant it about rivers though."
"So, I saw the inn, crawled into the stables out of the wet, and fell asleep. I figured that I would wake up and come in for a meal later on, but I wanted to at least get dry and get some sleep before I came in, just in case they turned me away. At least that way I'd be in better shape to try and find a place for the night."
"Next thing I know I heard some man demanding something, and I sat up just in time to see what I saw."
He took a good look at Jarl's face before continuing, and decided he liked what he saw there, so he kept going.
"Always thought knights were the best fighters in the realm. The sellsword was better. Guess the armor they wear helps a lot more than I thought. I'm going to have to put some thought into my own armor, after seeing that."
He took another draught of ale.
"Also thought all knights were noble and chivalrous. I figure some are, after all, you've listened to me without showing contempt, and the knight in the stables risked his life for a stableboy. But after listening to those two over there," he said, gesturing toward Ser Laton and Ser Gough, "talking about women, and what they've done or would do, well, those ain't chivalrous words at all, Ser. Mind you, it's mostly the fat old one doing the talking, and eating for that matter, and the younger one lapping up the words, but it's not what I ever thought of knights being like."
He sighed.
"I guess even knights can be good or bad too. It's just... I always thought of them as being, like, shining examples. When I was a kid, I dreamed of being one, until I found out that bastards can't be, well, except maybe hedge knights."
He swallowed the rest of his ale.
"I guess it's just that I never thought I had any illusions in life anymore, and now I'm finding I did have, after all. And they're gone, or at least going."
"Anyway, that's me, that's why I'm here. On my way to the tournament, not to compete, 'cause I'm just a smith, not a fighter, but for work."
