Stoatheart

[The Flint]

Ser Torn was in the practice yard drilling men when Ser Gilbert arrived. "Well Met Ser Gilbert, what brings you to our little corner of the world?"

[Ser Kenneth Coyn]

"Boredom actually," he responded "I'll kill you if you tell anyone, but I actually miss having Alexander around, its not much fun to drink alone night after night."

[The Flint]

"Blasphemer." Ser Torn cried jokingly, giving Ser Gilbert a punch on the arm. "I'd go for a brew now, but we're putting these fellas through their paces. I understand you've had some success with your little county eh?"

[Ser Kenneth Coyn]

"Well, we got the men back to felling trees," Gilbert said "we should be up to our normal output in a months time. The towns busting at the seems though with all the new refugees from Sun House."

[The Flint]

"But they are coming along well? That's good to know. Some times they have trouble re-settling. We'll be able to handle the population soon, I have a feeling that Lord Varner has regent is going to bring alot of coin in through Stoatheart, from commerce and such."

[Ser Kenneth Coyn]

"Thats great news, hey did I tell you we got a Brew master in Irwyn now?" Ser Gilbert says bringing two large jugs out from behind his back. "This stuff is really choice I have to tell you and the guy says its not even aged properly, whatever that means."

[The Flint]

"Really? Perhaps we should get you a crest with a big mug of ale and two sheafs of barley as your sigil Gilbert. I think you'd like that." He took one of the jugs, and took a sniff.

"Ooh but that does smell good."

[Ser Kenneth Coyn]

"Nah those heraldry artists charge too much to draw those damn things up. That means less coins for me to fulfill my true passions," Ser Gilbert winks knowing that Ser Torn already knows his true passions before continuing. "Open it up old boy," he says gesturing to the jug, "these fellas won't mind if you sneak off with me to drink up on the walls like we did when we were younger."

[The Flint]

"Ser Gilbert," Said Ser Torn in mock sternness. "I'm tempted to put you through your paces. These boys probably deserve a drink more thank you." But the knight of Blacksable took a big slug from the jar anyway.

[Ser Kenneth Coyn]

"Well I could use the practice, the lads I've been training up in Irwyn would be defeated by a feather duster," Ser Gilbert laughs, "Last time I saw you fight you were whipping up on young Alexander, care to take on a real man this time?"

[The Flint]

"Yes, I'll hold on to this jug of ale, while you go and get him." Ser Torn laughs. as he stands up, stretching. and than heading to the training circle, where he dons his helmet and hefts his shield. A page tosses Torn a dulled training blade and he raises his guard.

"Shall we go a round or two Flowers?" Ser Torn says.

[Ser Kenneth Coyn]

Ser Gilbert picks up the training blade and begins to circle Ser Torn "Your on old friend."

[The Flint]

Ser Torn laughs victoriously and helps his friend up.

"Not too shabby Gilbert, but we'll need the practice we we're going survive long in that melee in the Westerlands I think."

[Ser Kenneth Coyn]

"Melee?" Ser Gilbert asked dusting himself off, "Westerlands? Are we going to war again so soon?" the news of the tournament having passed over Ser Gilbert and the small town of Irwyn.

[The Flint]

"Despite that the Lonely Lion of Lannister cums in his britches at the thought of dead Reachmen, no Gilbert, we are not. We're going to a tourney. I hope you've but your bloody name in, so I can get another chance to clobber you."