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Post by The Flint on Oct 10, 2008 17:32:42 GMT -5
The young man blushed, or perhaps it was just the cold, "Oh forgive me, I presumed that with a network such as your own, you'd have heard by now. Forgive me, what a gross error on my part." he bows slightly, as if about to beat a hasty retreat.
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Post by Ollie on Oct 10, 2008 18:17:26 GMT -5
Lord Reed sighed audibly. "Stop. You can tell me what you know about this Cult of the Dead God and the poisoning of my feast, or you can leave. I don't have time for games."
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Post by The Flint on Oct 10, 2008 18:41:18 GMT -5
The young man snorted. "I don't have the time to catch you up to speed on things you ought to already know. The short story is they are a vicious and terrible band across the land who seeks to raise some terrible god of power. Some terrible Northern god, I might add, which is why I thought you might be interested." The boy seems annoyed this marshman's impudence.
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Post by Ollie on Oct 10, 2008 18:50:21 GMT -5
"You've come to be no doubt because you require my assistance in an endevor, assistance that would come easier if you would mind your tone and tongue. While I appreciate your aid with Myrrah, do not think for a second that I feel obligated to you. I have a realm to run, lands to reorder and fortify, and production to see in the midst of winter, not to mind a flock of children to help raise into strong lords and ladies. My heart is close to the Old Gods, the Northern gods, and if a group of people should choose champion one of the many, why ought I oppose them?"
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Post by The Flint on Oct 10, 2008 18:57:02 GMT -5
"See if I care whether you're ruled by a bunch of frozen eyeless wights. Enjoy worshiping some Heathen Great Icy Other. I can see you're too busy looking all lordly, to pay attention." the young man pivots on his heels and prepares to leave, his three bodyguards moving in to position behind him.
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Post by Ollie on Oct 10, 2008 21:42:53 GMT -5
"The Great Other? Wights?" Lord Olander exhaled sharply in what seemed to be derision, though a queer memory niggled in the back of his mind. "What does a commonborn southroner like you know about the Age of Heroes and the War for Dawn?"
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Post by The Flint on Oct 10, 2008 21:54:04 GMT -5
The young man turns. If the reference to being commonborn or southron was a problem, he didn't mention it.
"Some of the Cult's beliefs match up comparable to what the follower's of R'hllor believe. Except, you know, on the other side. They believe they worship a god, who is dead, but who can be brought back to life, and who can restore its followers to life as well. Their most august leaders are hideous,eyeless creatures, with an unnatural strength, and who do not die when confronted with common steel."
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Post by Ollie on Oct 12, 2008 15:50:16 GMT -5
"It's a good thing then that the men of the north are not common men, and that I do not wield common steel. I have dealt with the followers of R'hllor before, and should I deal with them again, they will meet a similar end. Should the Old Gods see a danger in their actions, I will know of it."
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Post by The Flint on Oct 12, 2008 18:08:00 GMT -5
"You aren't listening." the young man says irritably, "They aren't followers of R'hllor. They are the Cult of the Dead God, the worst scourge this land possesses bar none. And they are growing in strength, right here under your nose! The Red Priests you dispatched were their enemy. If anything you did the Cult good by eliminating their opposition for them. They will seek above all other things to cause instability, especially in the North."
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Post by Ollie on Oct 12, 2008 20:09:38 GMT -5
"Are you proposing that I ought have left the murder of Lord Manderly without justice? A criminal is a criminal, no matter what skin he wears or what god he favors. This cult will be dealt with should it become necessary, do not fear."
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Post by The Flint on Oct 13, 2008 14:26:58 GMT -5
"Of course not. All traitors should be rooted out. I'm simply saying that actions have unintended consequences, and nature abhors a vacuum. You must now act against the Cult of the Dead God, as the Red Priests did before."
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Post by Ollie on Oct 13, 2008 15:40:58 GMT -5
Olander lips chiseled a thin line across his face. "You are asking me to act against some hidden group that as of yet has broken no law and done no wrong? All the proof I have is on your good word, ser. You, whose name I still am left to imagine!"
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Post by The Flint on Oct 13, 2008 15:48:52 GMT -5
"They've broken more laws than I dare count. For a man who they say is blessed with the sight of the gods, Lord Reed, your insistence on names seems sadly pedestrian. Still if it comforts you. My name is Flea, I served Lord Francis Varner, and his descendants."
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Post by Ollie on Oct 13, 2008 16:10:56 GMT -5
Lord Reed nodded appreciatively. The name 'Flea' meant nothing to him, but the mention of Francis Varner did invoke a certain image.
"I do not demand knowledge of the gods, they grant me the sights that they wish. It is unbecoming of you to expect me to divine a name from the gods or to suffice without it. Now, Master Flea, I will assume that you have evidence to support your claims? Something other than claims gathered in the pub alleyway or warehouse basement?"
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Post by The Flint on Oct 13, 2008 16:24:47 GMT -5
"I wasn't asking you to divine a name, so much as have faith Lord Reed," Flea snickered. "And what evidence I have is my own. I'm not going to bloody do your job for you too. Take it upon yourself to confirm what I've told you. Check the histories. The Northern Lord Lyas Bolton was himself a Cult member, when he led his fiendish followers onto the Field of Blood for the Baratheon Usurper. The same cult attempted to throw the realm into confusion by assassinating Lord Piers Bettley when he was regent. Lord Rhodri, Lady Aranya, Lord Piers, my master, and others beside, have all fought them. Anyone who wants to safeguard the realm should know them, and call them the enemy."
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Hope you all are well and happy.