"I'd love to see that."
Kyle mutters to himself before going to sit at the bar again... definently Arbor Gold tonight. Yes... that's just the thing to get his father out of his head.
As you sit, you here the first of your drunken defenders rise from his table. No doubt, crockery will soon begin to fly.
"...Hey, no one talks to...the Lords Son like that! Especially no Squids!"Sigh. You hoped for at least one mug...you're a bit disappointed he couldn't recall your name.
Rilmad for the most part says silent, watching and listening. While sure, the hand on her dagger was suspicious, such a weapon would be nigh-useless from horseback. This left him rather perplexed at why he was being followed.
Instinct telling him to stay vigilant, his eyes shifted over to the direction the lady had come from, feeling like something was going to come from there.
Nothing does, though.
The Woman rides a bit past you, then pauses, seemingly casting about for your footprints. Peculiar.
When he spoke, only Frederich and the wildling leader--such as he was--could hear the lord. "So it is strange indeed when a raider knowingly drags his children to their deaths. Why are you here?"
The Wildling leader speaks to you in the same way. He seems more tired than blustering, when he's not preforming. What follows you don't really understand much of at all...he's sort of rambling.
"Better dead, then...well, you know. Well I'm supposing you don't. You will, though.
All that matters...there's a new King beyond the Wall. Only one king, see, Kneeler? I didn't care. Might have followed him. But, my brother said different. Well, he killed my brother. So, a bunch of us decided we'd try our luck South. The Mance wants us to go...North. But he can't stop Winter, no matter how hard he tries. So, it was dead there, or dead here. I'd rather my children die on blades, rather than...the cold. I hope you burn us, after we're dead. That's proper..."He seems to be talking to himself. Then he turns to you, a lingering pain in his eyes.
"You know I'm not even the leader? They just chose me, right now. Go out-protect us, Ben. Make them go away, Ben. I know you can stop them, Ben. Your brother always protected us...
I'm not my brother, but I can do one last thing. Kneeler. The Free Folk don't bend knees, but we do follow those who are strong. Give me one last thing-single combat, me and you...or, one of your dogs. If I win, we'll finish this the old fashioned way, right? We'll be heroes." He smiles, though it's a terrifying thing.
If you win, might be they'll bend to you-throw down their weapons. Some will fight, sure. Not all. Might be you could save some lives, mostly mine own. After that, well, Ben will be dead. What will I care? Might be better served you kill us all.
Like I said-we'd be burned, rather. Can you do that? I don't know. What do you decide, Kneeler Lord?" He says, shrugging.
"Dragon? I thought those were nothing but the boasts of ancient kings and an old wives tale. Lead on!"
"That's about right."Maynard proceeds to give you such as he offers of the family-he tells you of Lord Desmond, his three sons, and two daughters-the lines of the Camber family, and lesser offshoots of the Saltworths and Snows, and his own family, his son and daughter. You learn that the chef has twin identical sons, that Hal Highoak the guardsman has a nasty temper, Emmon Lannack the master at arms will gladly beat on you with weapon you choose to learn from him, and his own son Elded Camber will likely try to make you his wife.
"He hasn't had much luck, my son. I refuse to make for him a match-and he resents me for it, as he would if I did likewise. Still, I'd imagine you would be quite interesting to him...and, a great many Lords and Lords Sons. My dear, you're going to be quite popular here." He says, nothing you didn't already know.
At last, the pair of you enter the trophy hall.
Hang from the ceiling is the bones of the Ice Dragon killed umpteen hundreds of years ago by Darywn Stonehearth-you wouldn't have thought anything could be so large...or so fearsome. It must have been able to swallow a man on a horse whole when it was alive. Strangely, the bones don't seem like bones. They are a cold, dark blue-like Sapphires...with a shiny, metallic tinge.
"Impressive, yes? Don't be fooled-while most of it remains genuine, Stonehearths have been chipping off pieces of it to make daggers and blades for years...and the occasional bow of exceptional quality. We tend to replace what we can with ordinary steel, plaster, and the like. It's quite an undertaking, keeping history....historical."He points to the friezes in bands across the walls. Elise notes that the depictions follow a rough progression-the ones at the furthest of the hall are undecorated weirwood panels, simple carvings displaying historical acts of eons gone by. As they progress, they become larger, more intricate, and more inlaid with precious metals and gems. The latest one depicts who assume is Lord Desmond Stonehearth and his wife, standing astride his children-a panel of each face in profile has been added, as they were born, and updated as time went by.
"...I suppose I could tell you all about our families history, if you wanted. Might I direct over there-the scowling men tossing down their spears? Dates to when the Last King of North bent his knee to Aegon the Conqueror, almost three hundred years ago. They weren't too happy about it, apparently...
And there, you can see where our the Camber's swore loyalty to Stonehearth. You'll note the bodies around the edges. It was not a pleasant passage of power.
And, the one on the end...well, it's like a magic image. Everyone sees something different. I have no guess, and frankly I quite disturbing. What do you think, dear?" he asks, leading you to the end of the hall, in the shadows.
Well, it's hard to make out anything-the image is old, of stone-not of weirwood. As if the creators wanted it to last a long time. The final (first?) frieze depicts what looks like a group of raggedy men, standing in a group, staring out at the viewer in a disturbing synch. They seem...odd. Many of them bear horrific wounds in stark detail, but none of this is shown in their expressions-where expressions can be made out, they are mostly blank. The most disturbing detail is the lack of eyes. There are only empty triangular slots where in theory some sort of gems must have been placed, to give a touch of color. Taken all in, it leaves one with a profound sense of uneasiness-the forward scene, it's like watching a parade of corpses.
"...Our Septon Hullen says they are an artists depiction of the damned suffering in the Nine Hells. I wonder. We can't date such things, but the Seven have only in a recent sense come to the North...still, what else could it be?
I've heard that there were once sapphires in place of their eyes, but the Ironmen prized then all out when they held the castle-briefly, a very long time ago..."((Done!))
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Topic: ASOIAF RPG-An End to Summer (Game Thread) (Read 6050 times)