Post by The Smith on Apr 1, 2008 23:30:29 GMT -5
For months Lewys had been charge of his own army, and it had been a damn hassle to be honest. That's why he had both surprised and eager to accept the scouting command when General Prestor had offered it to him. "You'll have five hundred men under your command, Lydden. We're about three days march from Riverrun right now, so I'll just need you to make sure the path is clear for us to take the damn place." Lewys had nodded his understanding and his men had departed the next morning, in high spirits.
Mors rode next to him, making obscene jokes to the amusement of the young knights around them. They were being much too loud and relaxed for a scouting party, Lewys knew, but even he didn't expect to find any hostile force. They rode the better part of the day before finally making camp on a large plain. The night was clear and silent, but Lewys decided to be cautious. "No fires. And double sentries," he snapped at his squire, who rushed to carry out the orders. He couldn't quite get to sleep and woke on a number of occasions, sure that he had heard noises of battle in the distance. The night passed uneventful, however, and before dawn the small host was moving towards Riverrun once again.
It was around mid-day when a war horn was sounded, not a hundred yards to Lewys's right. "Form up, form up!" he bellowed, riding along the line with his sword outstretched, towards the point where he heard the horn. A dozen men rode beside him as they converged through the trees towards their destination. They could hear noises and shouts, curses and a groan, and suddenly Lewys found himself in front of a half-dozen men flying a crow banner, riding hard in their direction. Lewys's sword smashed through the first rider's throat, before he wheeled and took another man's horse in it's side. The man fell, and when he stumbled back to his feet, Lewys promptly removed his head from his shoulders with two furious hacks. Why aren't they fighting back? Lewys thought. They didn't even have their swords ready. He barely had time to figure it out before another one of the men, who had unsheathed his sword in the process, swung a desperate blow at his body. Lewys parried with his own blade and the dance continued for a moment, while the others seemed to watch. Mors was screaming something at Lewys, but he couldn't hear. His mind was on the fight. What was it Mors was yelling? Stop? Was he yelling, "stop"? And "peace"? What in the hell is "stop peace"? The man seemed to hear the words and lowered his sword, yelling yield. Lewys's own sword was already in flight and the man ducked at the last second or he would have lost his head too. Lewys looked around in confusement, at the four dead men laying around them, all wearing the crow sigil. Only two of the men had survived, both of whom were currently standing, aghast, looking at Lewys. His men also looked sad.
"We didn't know," Mors was saying to one of the men. "We heard the horn, and when we came through the trees, you were riding right for us." The men only nodded, looking relieved to be alived. Their leader, whom Lewys had been battling, stepped forward to speak. He eyed the badger on his shield and said, "Lord Lydden, I'm sorry for this accident..." he hesitated before continuing. "We were a peaceful party, seeking your army out to notify you of the Lord Regent's request."
Lewys looked the man incredulously. "We don't serve the Usurper," Lewys spat.
"Neither do we, milord," the man answered. "Well, at least not anymore. Horas Blackwood is dead and Lord Regent Benfry Smith has issued a proclomation, asking all armies to cease hostilities. The war is over." He handed over a parchment that Lewys instantly read. Benfry is alive? That is well. Lewys had met the man twice during his only two trips to King's Landing, and was fond of their brief but friendly acquaintance.
"Why were you not flying a peace banner?" Lewys demanded.
"We would have, milord, but we feared there still may be some Blackwood loyalists in the area who would not take kindly to us delivering Smith's commands. We sought you out first, before stating our purpose." The man glanced sadly at his fallen comrades, and Lewys felt a pang of sadness. A terrible misunderstanding....
"Men, sound the horn. I want these fallen soldiers to be brought back to camp for a proper burial. They deserve it. We will escort you two back to General Prestor for further orders. I am sorry for your losses. Truly, I did not know. I swear it."
Their leader nodded and thanked him for the funeral arrangements. "It is our fault for not flying a peace banner, milord. I did not expect to come on your army so quickly, though. It was a good scouting party, indeed." Lewys murmured his agreement and the men slowly headed back towards the main army.
Results:
Lewys improves to apprentice scouting.
Lewys improves towards grandmaster sword.
The army at Riverrun receives Smith's orders and most return to the west, taking garrison in their respective castles. A force of 6,000 under General Prestor remain in the riverlands, awaiting further confirmation of the Lord Regent's orders.
Mors rode next to him, making obscene jokes to the amusement of the young knights around them. They were being much too loud and relaxed for a scouting party, Lewys knew, but even he didn't expect to find any hostile force. They rode the better part of the day before finally making camp on a large plain. The night was clear and silent, but Lewys decided to be cautious. "No fires. And double sentries," he snapped at his squire, who rushed to carry out the orders. He couldn't quite get to sleep and woke on a number of occasions, sure that he had heard noises of battle in the distance. The night passed uneventful, however, and before dawn the small host was moving towards Riverrun once again.
It was around mid-day when a war horn was sounded, not a hundred yards to Lewys's right. "Form up, form up!" he bellowed, riding along the line with his sword outstretched, towards the point where he heard the horn. A dozen men rode beside him as they converged through the trees towards their destination. They could hear noises and shouts, curses and a groan, and suddenly Lewys found himself in front of a half-dozen men flying a crow banner, riding hard in their direction. Lewys's sword smashed through the first rider's throat, before he wheeled and took another man's horse in it's side. The man fell, and when he stumbled back to his feet, Lewys promptly removed his head from his shoulders with two furious hacks. Why aren't they fighting back? Lewys thought. They didn't even have their swords ready. He barely had time to figure it out before another one of the men, who had unsheathed his sword in the process, swung a desperate blow at his body. Lewys parried with his own blade and the dance continued for a moment, while the others seemed to watch. Mors was screaming something at Lewys, but he couldn't hear. His mind was on the fight. What was it Mors was yelling? Stop? Was he yelling, "stop"? And "peace"? What in the hell is "stop peace"? The man seemed to hear the words and lowered his sword, yelling yield. Lewys's own sword was already in flight and the man ducked at the last second or he would have lost his head too. Lewys looked around in confusement, at the four dead men laying around them, all wearing the crow sigil. Only two of the men had survived, both of whom were currently standing, aghast, looking at Lewys. His men also looked sad.
"We didn't know," Mors was saying to one of the men. "We heard the horn, and when we came through the trees, you were riding right for us." The men only nodded, looking relieved to be alived. Their leader, whom Lewys had been battling, stepped forward to speak. He eyed the badger on his shield and said, "Lord Lydden, I'm sorry for this accident..." he hesitated before continuing. "We were a peaceful party, seeking your army out to notify you of the Lord Regent's request."
Lewys looked the man incredulously. "We don't serve the Usurper," Lewys spat.
"Neither do we, milord," the man answered. "Well, at least not anymore. Horas Blackwood is dead and Lord Regent Benfry Smith has issued a proclomation, asking all armies to cease hostilities. The war is over." He handed over a parchment that Lewys instantly read. Benfry is alive? That is well. Lewys had met the man twice during his only two trips to King's Landing, and was fond of their brief but friendly acquaintance.
"Why were you not flying a peace banner?" Lewys demanded.
"We would have, milord, but we feared there still may be some Blackwood loyalists in the area who would not take kindly to us delivering Smith's commands. We sought you out first, before stating our purpose." The man glanced sadly at his fallen comrades, and Lewys felt a pang of sadness. A terrible misunderstanding....
"Men, sound the horn. I want these fallen soldiers to be brought back to camp for a proper burial. They deserve it. We will escort you two back to General Prestor for further orders. I am sorry for your losses. Truly, I did not know. I swear it."
Their leader nodded and thanked him for the funeral arrangements. "It is our fault for not flying a peace banner, milord. I did not expect to come on your army so quickly, though. It was a good scouting party, indeed." Lewys murmured his agreement and the men slowly headed back towards the main army.
Results:
Lewys improves to apprentice scouting.
Lewys improves towards grandmaster sword.
The army at Riverrun receives Smith's orders and most return to the west, taking garrison in their respective castles. A force of 6,000 under General Prestor remain in the riverlands, awaiting further confirmation of the Lord Regent's orders.