Training yard in the Gates of the Moon

[Lord Howland Royce]

/////////

Patrek found himself at the training yard, observing rather than training at the moment. A small smile could be seen on his grim face as he remembered last nigth.

[wookie]

Danwell slopped in with a scowl on his face as his head thumped in concordance with the clashing sound of steel on steel.

He began to wonder if he'd made a mistake in leaving his bed

[Lord Howland Royce]

"Good day, Captain. Did you sleep well?" Patrek said his mouth twitching into a smile.

[wookie]

Danwell looked sourly at Patrek "Well enough, ser" he hefted a blunted sword to feel the weight of it. "Game for another chance to knock me on my ass this time?" he smiled crookedly

[Lord Howland Royce]

Patrek nodded. "Alright, let's see if I fare better this time" and found a blunted longaxe.

[wookie]

Danwell started groggily as Patrek managed to land a few good early strikes which had him reeling. However, his old campaigner instincts and wiles managed to buy him time while he cleared his head and began using a few old tricks and moves learned on the battlefield to his advantage and he managed to wear the valeman down.

As Patrek yielded, Danwell tossed away his sword, breathing heavily
"Well...<wheeze>...fought, Patrek. Thought you'd got me there"

[Lord Howland Royce]

Patrek rubs his knuckles and grunts. "Thought so to. The fight lasted longer than last time though, we are both improving it seems. I must drink with my left hand this night it seems," he said. "Have you spoken to ser Tytos Blackwood yet?"

[wookie]

Danwell face twisted in annoyance and shook his head - then winced as his headache reappeared.
"No, he hasn't deigned himself to notice us - perhaps like the others in the Vale, he feels we somehow allowed the coup to take place and were responsible for the death of his brothers? In any case, the grief is too raw for my own lost men to chastise him on account of it"

[Lord Howland Royce]

Patrek spat and frowned. "They are bloody fools if they think we had anything to do with it. With only three of our numbers left, though maybe Burt survived somehow."

[wookie]

Danwell looked mournfully as Patrek "I heard the Velaryon camp was sacked by Lord Barclay's sworn men - I doubt many survived it. A poor end for a good man..."

[Lord Howland Royce]

Patrek expression turned sour. "So many of our comrades dead. If I am to toast them all I would be a drunkard by the end of it. I thought protecting the King would help keep the realm more safe". He chuckled darkly before sighing.

[wookie]

Danwell mused for a moment, as if remembering the many faces of the King's Men lost. He shook his head again, wincing, and replied "You're sounding as cheerful as me these days - I'm obviously teaching you more than how to fight - let's be positive instead and see if we can restore some pride to the name and encourage a few promising swordsmen from here to replenish our ranks"

[Lord Howland Royce]

"I am sure my distant cousin can make a song or two about the glory of the King's Men, he said he would make a song about our "misadventures". No doubt foolish young lads and cynical old men would spring up at the chance to join. I heard he humilated a squire here not too long ago, maybe he could shame him into joining"

[wookie]

"Songs, eh?" Danwell's face brightened momentarily "I always wondered if I'd be in a song. The closest I got was years ago at a musicans contest"
He paused and cleared his throat for a second before launching into, with a surprisingly adept voice, a bawdy limerick

"There was a young man born near Rook's Rest,
Who joined up to escape the martial nest,
He stayed honest and true
Despite constantly being blue,
And put his men's patience to the test"

He flushed slightly and muttered "Funny sense of humour, that fellow. Died when Aedon burned down the city, so I hear"

[Lord Howland Royce]

"A shame, could use some humour in the Red Keep. I would try my chance at singing, though I doubt that Lord Royce would appreciate me making the guards deaf," Patrek grimaced.