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[Tiruin]

"Today, Almato wants a pet bird. Please, little girl, catch me a bird-the ones you call Starlets. Do trouble not to harm one."

...considering these words, I believe he did not mean the most direct approach. Poor little things. So scared and with an overbearing sense of self-preservation. They dislike quick movements...seeing it as a threat. But are like magpies.

And I must not harm one.

Alessa harrumphed as she considered how easy the words of this goal was, but given the objective--she did not relent in considering multiple, other options.

...I guess its my viewpoint. How do I tame something that shudders at fear? Make myself presentable?

The image of dressing up as a silver stag appears in Alessa's mind.
She giggles at the thought.

...Right. Focus! Mmh, this one is answered out of my box of knowledge...

Ponder on anything related to what or how Starlets are kept alive; by due observation, how is their lifestyle?

[Dwarmin]

Ponder on anything related to what or how Starlets are kept alive; by due observation, how is their lifestyle?

Well, you know they are...birds...they like seeds, and while they probably don't like it much you can keep them in a cage. Birds tend to be pretty docile when held gently, and patiently-they sort of forget to be afraid, not having large minds to begin with. How to get one in your hand, is the question.

Almato sits nearby, watching you think, slowly sipping the persimmon leaf tea he enjoys so much.

[Tiruin]

Get a coin, preferably something REAL shiny, along with some mixed nuts (or seeds, or feed anyway), and climb upwards up there!
...Hold out hand. Be patient ._. Glance with veiled nervousness back at Almato.

[Dwarmin]

KYLE

Kyle glances back at the drunken man, who is utterly unremarkable. Kyle doesn't recognize him at all, which is odd-the thought tickles the back of his mind.

Then, the bartenders place a mug of deep, warm Arbor Gold in front of him and...

[WILL TEST=CHALLENGING (12)
KYLE'S WILL 3D6=10
Fail]

After awhile, everything goes away. All his worries and his fears-all his dreams, his notions, and resentments. It all washes away in a river of sweet, sweet Gold.

...

From a mental distance, Kyle is barely aware when the fists and cups start flying-he's a bit above it all, staring at a spot on the ceiling and trying to make out that Iron womans face from it, for some reason. He's truly surprised when something hits him on the back of the head.

What? Don't they know he's a Lord's Son? He thinks, falling from his chair to the ceiling. At least that's how he feels. The confusion quickly turns to atavistic drunken anger. Someone hit him-he should hit them back, is all he gets to thinking-along with a nagging voice he assumes is his conscience or his common sense (both long gone by now), telling him to run away before he gets hurt. He reaches for his swordbelt, and it isn't there-the bartender gathers weapons behind the bar. Kyle wonders why-doesn't he know people have to defend themselves?

The grey blur steps toward him, and he sobers only enough to realize he's only got two choices-fight or flight. For a moment, he can imagine the figure is his father.

Roaring Drunk= -2D on every test

WILLIAM

Frederich nods and silently agrees, un-slinging his broad-axe from his back and stalking toward the Wildling's leader, who retreats to meet him in the center of the battlefield, such as it is. Both lines of men seem to go quiet for a moment as the men size each other up...

[COMPETING AGILITY TEST
FREDERICH'S AGILITY 3D6=6
BEN'S AGILITY 3D6=8
Ben Wins]

The Wildling leader moves quickly as Frederich rushes in, bold as usual-the wildlings longspear snaps forward like a snake.

[FIGHTING TEST=(9)
BEN'S fighting 3D6=13 (1d6 BONUS)
Success, 1 Degree]

Damage=4 Vs AR 5=0

Frederich is tough, but a lot faster then you would ever expect of a man of his size. He bursts forward with all the vigor a man in his prime. He nimbly ducks to his side, and takes the spear point on his shoulderplate, grunting at the impact. Then he rolls forward...

[FIGHTING TEST=(9)
FREDERICH'S fighting 5D6=22 (4d6 BONUS)
Success, 3 Degrees

Damage 6x3=18 Vs AR 5=Ben opts to take a wound (-1D on all tests)

Frederich's bloody axe scores a solid blow, nearly cutting the mans left hand off at the stump-only an elaborate parry and backstep allows the Wildling to gain a breath, lashing out again in desperation with a mangled wrist. That he can even manage such a thing is a testament...

[FIGHTING TEST=(9)
BEN'S fighting 2D6=12 (1d6 BONUS)
Success, 1 Degree]

Damage=4 Vs AR 5=0

Frederich dashes to the Wildlings left side, and though the spear is well aimed, it lacks power-and fails to penetrate his armor once more. Frederich strikes forward, with something like contempt...

[FIGHTING TEST=(9)
FREDERICH'S fighting 5D6=26 (4d6 BONUS)
Success, 4 Degrees]

Damage 6x4=24 Vs AR 5=19
Ben's Endurance can take no more wounds, and he is defeated

The Longaxe is a merciless weapon-Frederich's next blow cleaves the end of the wildlings spear with the downstroke, then removes the mans head with the upstroke. He falls to the ground without a sound.

Ben. His name was Ben.

...

Indeed, some still fight-they charge his lines, outnumbered twenty to one. William wonders if it's bravery or merely desperation. For the most part however, they surrender, scowling and mad-but, not to surprised.

The question is, what shall be done with them?

Frederich is back at Williams side, his armor spattered in mud and blood. He seems happy enough.

'The question is sir, what shall be done with them?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow. "I've no doubt some might take the black...if the black will have them. I've an idea to send them right back over the wall, mi'lord. Why should we feed and cloth them? They're not the sort to enjoy paying taxes, mind. Send them away and let them tell their friends what happens when they bother My House." He spits on the ground, then seems to think a moment. Frederich thinks a lot when he's around William.

"Apologies, my Lord. The Battle has scattered my wits. I did not mean offense, nor impoliteness...it's your decision, and I did not mean to imply otherwise."

ELISE

Maynard pauses to think.

"The Ironmen...well, they are Reavers by nature. Their islands are barely arable spits of rock in a cold ocean. They've long since learned if they want something they have to take it by force.

I wouldn't put cunning past them, however-during Greyjoys Rebellion they very nearly burnt our fleet in harbor, under the cover of night. They succeeded with the Lannisters. They can be vexing foes, indeed...

As for the sapphires...well, it's an old tale.

A Stonehearth Lord fell in love with a Ironborn Woman, so the story goes. More fools for love, eh? The Wedding was quite a bloody affair. Depending on what side you believe, either she faked love and conspired to betray him, they conspired together to betray House Stonehearth, her Ironborn brothers conspired to use her affections to their gain, or both sides Wolf and Kraken got incredibly drunk, and began fighting for no reason. In the end, the Ironborn held the castle...though, not for long. We ran them back to their ships with their stolen loot. The lovers, if that's what they were, were found arm in arm-both throats cut-in the tallest tower in the Shieldlands. A grisly tale, don't you think?" He says, musing.

BENJICOT

"Your will be done, my Lord." says Eldred Camber-he's technically your bodyguard, a willowy boy about your age.

The man is grateful for his silver-thought of course he expected more-and describes the house emblems he saw to you-Ryswells, Dustins, Glovers, Boltons and Stanes. Benjicot guesses there must have been some sort of feast or meeting of a sort in Glover lands...

...

The next petitioner is a grimy man clad in steel chains, held by two guardsmen. He speaks for himself, his downcast eyes mapping lines in the floor. Behind him the crowd suddenly seems a lot more agitated.

"My Lord, I come asking for no mercy. I come to confess my crimes...I am a Kinslayer. I confess it. I killed my half-brother as we quarreled over the price we paid in grain, a petty thing. He pushed me...and I pushed him back. We were on a bridge, mi'lord-the...the railing snapped, and he went over the side...and he never had a chance. The Frostflow took him under...my lord. He never had a chance.

I...like I said, I don't ask for mercy. Permit me to take the black, my lord. I wish to serve on the wall. Let me have my life, my lord...and I promise to spend it service to the r...to the realm..." He says.

A boisterous man in the audience speaks up-without permission, mind you. He seems to veer between rage and grief in the same moment.

"He was my brother too, Len! My brother! The Lord should take your head, rather than letting you skate away to wear the Black...blood for blood! BLOOD FOR BLOOD!" The crowd seems to agree-either through murmured assent, or outright shouting.

Mollen bangs his pike on the stone floor. "Order! Order, you dogs! Order in the Lords presence!"

Benjicot is wise enough to know when the quiet settles down, they will all look to him for the decision.

ALESSA

Just so.

Alessa gathers some Persimmon seeds that Almato just helpfully managed to bring along, and climbs up into the rafters, holding seeds in one hand a shiny silver stag in the other. And then she waits...and waits...and waits...

...

Some time later, she is woken from a near-drowse by a small bird landing in her left hand, quietly nibbling at the seeds.

RILMAD

Rilmad readies his crossbow, uneasy...

The young Woman continues to ride about, looking for signs, a frown creasing her features.
 
[COMPETING STEALTH/AWARENESS TEST
RILMAD'S STEALTH 4D6=16
??? AWARENESS 5D6=17
??? Wins]

The woman sees something that catches her eyes...she seems to pause a moment. Then she looks straight at Rilmad in his hiding place, smiling prettily.

"I know where you are. Why are you hiding from me, Ser? I just wanted to speak with you."

[kj1225]

Kyle growls, his lord father would have the NERVE to interupt him? And strike him at that!? He would never do that to his precious bastard would he? Well, if he wants to hit someone he'll have to learn people hit back!
Kyle charges at the blur!

[Taricus]

((Curse you dwarmin, using characters as powerful as mine against me XD))

Rilmad merely stayed motionless for a moment, before lowering his crossbow slightly. "Alright, what did you want to talk about?"

[Lucus Casius]

William supervising the collection of the wildling weapons, and the collection of their corpses for burning, when Frederich returns.  He listens carefully to the knight, shaking his head only when he has finished. 

"You caused no offense, Ser.  I've half a mind to agree."  His eyes go to group of surviving wildling men, now weaponless and surrounded by guards.  "No doubt some of their party have raided in our mountains before, and they have no right to remain on our land."

But then the women and children are brought from the forest, surrounded by guards of their own, and the Lord of House Camber sighs.  "But this is a strange situation, and they may prove useful in time.  Speak to the men, find those willing to take the black.  As for the others...  There are enough fertile valleys in my holdings rarely used by us or the clans, and easily guarded.  We can settle them in one, for now."

[scriver]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

BENJICOT "Your will be done, my Lord." says Eldred Camber-he's technically your bodyguard, a willowy boy about your age.

The man is grateful for his silver-thought of course he expected more-and describes the house emblems he saw to you-Ryswells, Dustins, Glovers, Boltons and Stanes. Benjicot guesses there must have been some sort of feast or meeting of a sort in Glover lands...

...

The next petitioner is a grimy man clad in steel chains, held by two guardsmen. He speaks for himself, his downcast eyes mapping lines in the floor. Behind him the crowd suddenly seems a lot more agitated.

"My Lord, I come asking for no mercy. I come to confess my crimes...I am a Kinslayer. I confess it. I killed my half-brother as we quarreled over the price we paid in grain, a petty thing. He pushed me...and I pushed him back. We were on a bridge, mi'lord-the...the railing snapped, and he went over the side...and he never had a chance. The Frostflow took him under...my lord. He never had a chance.

I...like I said, I don't ask for mercy. Permit me to take the black, my lord. I wish to serve on the wall. Let me have my life, my lord...and I promise to spend it service to the r...to the realm..." He says.

A boisterous man in the audience speaks up-without permission, mind you. He seems to veer between rage and grief in the same moment.

"He was my brother too, Len! My brother! The Lord should take your head, rather than letting you skate away to wear the Black...blood for blood! BLOOD FOR BLOOD!" The crowd seems to agree-either through murmured assent, or outright shouting.

Mollen bangs his pike on the stone floor. "Order! Order, you dogs! Order in the Lords presence!"

Benjicot is wise enough to know when the quiet settles down, they will all look to him for the decision.

Benjicot looks down on the man with contempt as he thinks the situation over, then gathers himself and again attempts to make himself seem as authoritative as ye can. "The murder of kin is the most grave of crimes, to which only the harshest of punishments are fitting. You claim it was an accident, yet how could the word of a kinslayer be trusted? If I send you to the wall, how can I trust that you would not turn on your new brothers? No... Unless there is any witness to the event willing to strengthen these claims, then the sentence is clear... It can be nothing else than death."

As soon as he had said those word Benjicot feels a strong sense of dread come over him, and his head spun as be grasped the gravity of what he had done. He felt his guts twist themself into a knot of guilt - he did not even know the name of this man that be had sentenced to die. He had to muster every inch of his self-control as he attempted to not let it show.

"I... If there is anyone who bore witness to these events, I will give you the chance to summon them. If there is none... the punishment will be carried out, before the eyes of the gods, in two days from now."

[Dwarmin]

"I... If there is anyone who bore witness to these events, I will give you the chance to summon them. If there is none... the punishment will be carried out, before the eyes of the gods, in two days from now."

The man shakes his head, his resolve seeming to stiffen.

"None...no one..."

But, someone does speak up...at no doubt cost to herself, if the stares of her kin and countrymen.

...

She looks young enough to be the mans daughter, though Benjicot is informed she is the mans half-sister, a scrawny woman with light brown hair and green eyes. She seems to be very angry...at Benjicot, but she hides it well.

"My Lord...Len is a good man, my brother. I have known him since we were children. He bore me on his shoulders with our brothers to the altar on my wedding day. He held my first child in his hands...and consoled me when I lost her to the fever...I cannot imagine this was anything aside from a terrible accident...he had nothing to gain from killing Mal-no land, no gold. They always quarreled, as brothers do, and being from different mothers...he could not have meant to do this thing. I swear it."

She seems on the verge of tears, but chokes them back.

"...I cannot...I only ask you to consider the justice of the wall...and, if death is what you truly decide...well, let it be done, then. Do not let him suffer for two days alone in a cold cell, waiting to die-my brother, no matter his crime, deserves better than that-and...the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."

At this point she stares at Benjicot with such anger Eldred's hand goes for his own blade.

"But, I swear upon the Old Gods-let him live, and take the black. Let me stand in his place as proof of justice. If he should break his word, let me die in his place. I am a widow and childless. I will not be missed....Surely, Kinslaying can never be forgiven...but, cannot it not be paid a penance to, if another should stand for him?" She pleads, her green eyes burning with Northern fury.

[Sheb]

((Ooooops. Sorry if I didn't read all the other stuff, I'll catch up later. Anything really important I missed?))

"Does it matter Hal? Both salt and snow are known to kill oaks, especially the young and feeble one. Do you really want to go through it again? I was hoping to take a shit, not beat one up."

Looking down at Hal Highoak, Henry tries to look menacing as he lays a hand on his sword hilt. He's not much of a warrior, and isn't sure to win that fight, be he can't loose face again. If only he could just go to the privy quietly...

[scriver]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

"I... If there is anyone who bore witness to these events, I will give you the chance to summon them. If there is none... the punishment will be carried out, before the eyes of the gods, in two days from now."

The man shakes his head, his resolve seeming to stiffen.

"None...no one..."

But, someone does speak up...at no doubt cost to herself, if the stares of her kin and countrymen.

...

She looks young enough to be the mans daughter, though Benjicot is informed she is the mans half-sister, a scrawny woman with light brown hair and green eyes. She seems to be very angry...at Benjicot, but she hides it well.

"My Lord...Len is a good man, my brother. I have known him since we were children. He bore me on his shoulders with our brothers to the altar on my wedding day. He held my first child in his hands...and consoled me when I lost her to the fever...I cannot imagine this was anything aside from a terrible accident...he had nothing to gain from killing Mal-no land, no gold. They always quarreled, as brothers do, and being from different mothers...he could not have meant to do this thing. I swear it."

She seems on the verge of tears, but chokes them back.

"...I cannot...I only ask you to consider the justice of the wall...and, if death is what you truly decide...well, let it be done, then. Do not let him suffer for two days alone in a cold cell, waiting to die-my brother, no matter his crime, deserves better than that-and...the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."

At this point she stares at Benjicot with such anger Eldred's hand goes for his own blade.

"But, I swear upon the Old Gods-let him live, and take the black. Let me stand in his place as proof of justice. If he should break his word, let me die in his place. I am a widow and childless. I will not be missed....Surely, Kinslaying can never be forgiven...but, cannot it not be paid a penance to, if another should stand for him?" She pleads, her green eyes burning with Northern fury.

Eyeing the woman cautiously Benjicot tried to look for signs of deception, but her anger seemed sincere. "It is brave of you to stand up for your brother, and your words ring true. Perhaps I judged too rashly". Benjicot turned to the murderer. "Now... As you came here and willingly confessed before the court, I shall grant you your wish of taking the black. Do not think of it as pity - no mercy awaits you at the Wall."

[scriver]

((*scriver pokes the thread to see what is up))

[Dwarmin]

((Just winter laziness. Will update when I can.))

[Dwarmin]

KYLE

[COMPETING AGILITY TEST
KYLE'S AGILITY 1D6=1
BLUR'S AGILITY 5D6=18
Blur Wins!]

The blur suddenly triples into a dozen blurs, and they all look your father-scowling at you disapprovingly.

[FIGHTING TEST=(6)
BLUR'S fighting 4D6=15
Success, 2 Degrees
Damage 1x2=2 Vs AR 7
0 Damage!]

One of the blurs suddenly solidifies into a swinging ale mug, bashing into his jaw with a spray of fume, and making the whole world sing-a terrible song, anyway. One of the notes of the song seems to be a vaguely familiar female voice.

"Would you stop that? Don't make me beat you down, Greenlander!"

Huh?

WILLIAM

The remaining Wildlings are herded off to the valleys, where they will hopefully learn to settle-some of them grumbling, of course. Surely it's better than the alternative...though, maybe not for a Wildling.

...

Williams companion mentions something, as they began to march their army back-a slow going, and the weather was getting steadily worse.

Frederich had seemed deep in thought...

"Sir...I should be dead." He suddenly announces, with no preamble.

Hum. How does William take that?

HENRY

"Does it matter Hal? Both salt and snow are known to kill oaks, especially the young and feeble one. Do you really want to go through it again? I was hoping to take a shit, not beat one up."

Looking down at Hal Highoak, Henry tries to look menacing as he lays a hand on his sword hilt. He's not much of a warrior, and isn't sure to win that fight, be he can't loose face again. If only he could just go to the privy quietly...

The man spits on the castle floor, one of his unfortunate habits.

"You think you can kill me? I think we should see where that thought gets you...that a snow...talks to his betters... not having a drop of royal blood...a disgrace....not to mention the son of a wh..."

What follows is a verbal beatdown Henry is well used to...and, as usual, his patience begins to wane.

[Hal beings an Intrigue
Hal vs Henry
Method: Taunt
Objective: Let's you and me fight!]

Does Henry merely attack as Hal wants him to, try to resist the intrigue (ergo, attempting the opposite objective-trying to defuse the fight), or withdraw and face the consequences?

ELISE

Eventually, Maynard releases you to explore on your own-though, Elise has a thought he is the sort of person who makes a habit of watching everyone...

Elise thinks about where she could go, based on the information she has.

Kyle Stonehearth, the third son, is likely causing trouble in one of the bars in the city...Maynard mentioned that Henry was around the castle last he knew...Benjicot is most easily found-he's playing at court in his fathers chair, no doubt adjusting the seat for his height.

Maynard also said that his brother, William, was out fighting the Wildlings-and William's young daughter, Alessa, was training swordplay in the highest tower in the shieldlands, guarded by her fathers men.

BENJICOT

With the judgement, the man is sent away to spend the rest of his days on the Wall. Of course, he doesn't seem very relieved. And the man's sister still seems angry at you. And the man's family scowls at you openly, while the rest of the crowd seems restless.

Well, The Lord can't please everyone.

...

Another petitioner...though, at least this one is a friendly face, one with a magnificent white beard. It's the Septon of House Stonehearth-Septon Hullen. They call him "Septon Snowbeard", because he's gotten into the habit of traveling around the Northlands to spread the word of the seven, and aid the poor and unfortunate, no matter how bad the weather is...Benjicott has always known him as a warm, kind man-devoted to spreading his faith in a land that will perhaps never truly quite bend so.

As he enters, he bows briefly.

"My Lord, may the Seven bless you on this day-I have come asking for your leave...and a boon."

The Priest pauses, more to catch the audience's attention, Benjicot thinks.

"I have come to ask you if my Lord might approve the building of a proper Sept, here in Stonehearth. As you know, our current Sept is a poor place of worship-it can hardly hold more than myself, and a single candle-though a man must do with what he has, thus I do not complain. But, if I may, I would ask for my Lord to help me fund the building of a true church, so that I may enliven my faith, and attract more of the faithful. It will cost Dragons, no doubt, but I am hoping we can work upon a loan-thus I promise to the Seven, I will, through donation and hard work, pay back every piece of gold you might see fit to grant me, a humble Septon."

Well, he does have a way with words...Sept's are not cheap, however, and in the North he's not likely to get many donations from the locals. It will be something of a mark of prestige, of course, and useful for visiting sailors-you may be able to recoup building costs eventually, though it may take until the next summer...

RILMAD

Rilmad merely stayed motionless for a moment, before lowering his crossbow slightly. "Alright, what did you want to talk about?"

The woman shrugs, seeming a bit miffed.

"You seemed more interesting than the louts I was with. Drunks are boring. Is that enough of an answer? I don't even know your name...who are you? Where did you come from? I wanted to know."

[kj1225]

Kyle stops. That wasn't his father... Was it? No, of course not... No, his father hits much harder than that. Ugh... things would be much simpler if everything would STOP MOVING FOR A SECOND!