Wild Eye

[The Smith]

Wild Eye is atop of the peak of the Mount an place of ancient and unholy rituals.

[The Smith]

Atop the mountain there lies an interesting scene, twenty mountain clansmen stand rigidly around a circle made of black rocks. One man moves in this outer circle, he is clearly not a clansmen and wears a goldmask to cover his face. He seems to be whistling a jaunty tune.

Inside the circle of black rocks four men sit staring down at a hole in the mountain side. Light and heat radiate from this crevice causing the men around it to sweat heavily. Three of these men are dressed in a hodpodge of heavy garments in the wildling fashion. The last man is dressed in full rainment of a Warlock.

Standing slightly behind them is another man with a large walking staff, he wears a long black cloak. He turns his eyeless face to stair down the trail leading down, and frowns.

[Deleted]

The black courser snorted and reared when they reached the summit, nearly unseating Aranya. She felt his unease, and dread and hatred knotted in her stomach as she gazed on the gold-masked man.

Her eye then fell on the man with the staff, and a shiver passed through her, fear mingling with rage.

[sethgreyjoy]

Fryse was, as always, impassive. The scene did not bother him. He had seen such councils before, and they never seemed to have good tidings. He noticed the man with the staff and muttered. "That one is mine."

[Horas]

Horas Blackwood crests the summit, his eyes taking in the scene. They pause first on the man with the staff, then the goldfaced man, and finally, the warlock, where they linger.

[Lord Rhodri Arryn]

Yohn speaks. His even voice seems quiet, yet it carries enough for the whole company to hear. "Only the steel clad father, the musician, the child, the blue painted crow and the three eyed mother may pass the rocks."

[Lord Rhodri Arryn]

Rhodri draws his sword and says a prayer to the old gods. He nods to Selwyn, who has likewise drawn his blade. "On the other side, brother. As always."

[The Smith]

The Clansmen turn as one when the eyeless man waves at them, they start walking toward the new arrivals.

[sethgreyjoy]

Fryse stares at the boy. "And what am I?" He snorts and puts a hand on his axe. "I am nobody. I may pass if'n I wish. The man with the stick beckons to me."

[Deleted]

Aranya hissed, glaring at the man with the staff, as if he confirmed her suspicions. "Brothers!" she called, knowing it would be futile. "Halt!"

[Lord Rhodri Arryn]

Yohn turns to Fryse and calmly says, "It is up to you what day you die."

[sethgreyjoy]

Fryse laughed. "Today might be a good day to die. Although my men might not agree." He draws up daggers from his cloak. "Is there ane'thin' in the prophecy 'gainst hittin' the fucks with knives?"

[Deleted]

At Yohn's words, Aranya glanced at Selwyn. She dismounted from the snorting black, nodded to Selwyn, and began walking towards the rocks.

[Horas]

Horas brings his horse over to where Fryse stands and leans down to speak to him.

"Master Fryse," Horas says, "It may be wise to stand beyond the rocks for time being. But stand ready."

[sethgreyjoy]

"Well if you five wanna beeline fer the rocks, me and the others can clean up this sad sack o' soggy cocks!" He stepped forward, ahead of the others and pointed at a clansman. "Oy! Care to dance?"