Post by The Smith on Apr 2, 2008 23:03:03 GMT -5
Lewys poured over the numbers in front of him. 613 minus.... that's forty and six....the Seven take these damn numbers. Too many of them. Wearily shaking his head, he made himself a cup of wine and drained it before attacking the figures once again. Seven hundred thirty and four. Why so many extra horses? Bent over the parchments with only the dim light from a waxing candle to see, Lewys looked more like some elderly priest than a general. Shaking his head, befuddled, he rose and, grabbing a thick fur and shrugging it on, he exited his tent and strolled into the dark, crisp night.
Maester Conly, the man in charge of logistics and supplies in the Western army, had agreed to let Lewys take over his job for his own men and a couple thousand others. Overall, Lewys calculated that he was currently in charge of a fourth of the twenty some thousands of soldiers currently closing in on Riverrun. Maester Conly, for the past fortnight, had been working with Lewys on his finance and trade skills, and his general mathematics. He had already been better than average when it came to monetary issues, but Lewys felt all the safer for learning from Maester Conly.
As Lewys strolled through the dark and silent camp, with no particular interest in mind, he thought back to his defeat on the cold northern waters. We had them two to one... that was no ordinary defeat. The gods knew I was fighting for the wrong side. Horas with his coup, Marten, Farman, Maurin... all murderers. It was well of them to fling my men and I into the ocean. If only I could have drowned instead of them... Lewys thought, genuinely sorry that his men had perished yet he had been spared. Maybe it was some cruel jape of theirs. Or maybe they have some task for me to do yet, to redeem myself. With a new energy, he turned back the way he had come, past his tent, and headed for a small, droopy tent towards the edge of camp. Without hesitation, he entered the inside of it, without worrying about disturbing anyone. He knew the person who held his residence there would be awake.
"Maester," Lewys spoke softly. "I have done well the past week on my own. But when you added the two divisions to my responsibilities... it is difficult indeed. I wonder how a master of coin manages to run the finance of an entire realm. It is truly amazing."
The old man was laying down, sprawled out on his belly, with a bundle of scattered papers spread out before him. Overall, he looked not anything like a maester at all. Rubbing his hand through his thin grey hair, Conly smiled and organized the papers in front of him before speaking.
"Lewys, you did well. To be honest, I expected you to come crawling back to me in tears days ago. It is no easy thing to be a quartmaster of an army, or a realm, as you have said. But you have real promise yet. I have no doubt you will enrich the holdings of Deep Den tenfold when you return to your home." The man had a soft, soothing voice, good for comfort. Lewys could care less for that, as long as he could grasp the knowledge of the seemingly infinite amount of figures one must compile on a daily basis when managing the supply lines. "Besides," the maester continued, "master of coin would not be so difficult as you would imagine." When Lewys looked at him dubiously, the maester waved his hand at him and continued, "No, I am not out of my mind, you spoiled Lord. The master of coin has it easier than many financial people in the realm. You see, he receives reports from all the kingdoms. These people, who go nameless, do all the work for him. The master of coin just combines all the figures from the separate kingdoms to make one final sum. It would be the same as if I handed out my responsibilites of this army, to twenty different men. Each man would do the totals for their division, and then send me the report. I would just have to organize them and make adjustments where it's needed." Lewys nodded in understanding and wordless, the two retreated from the tent and headed to Lewys's to make sense of the problem he had made when totaling.
The guards outside Lydden's tent gave each other confused and suspicious glances whenever they could hear the words being spoken from inside. "That is entirely too many horses, maester...." Lewys could be heard saying. ".... enough coin. It's just a waste." "..... must learn to reason with the numbers, Lewys," the older man's soft voice said, echoing into the clear night. The guards shook their heads. They couldn't fathom as to why the last few weeks their lord had taken up the habit of pouring over books and numbers and figures all hours of the night. When they heard Lewys let out a big, "wahoooo!" in the middle of the night, they ran into the tent, wondering what was wrong. "Nothing is wrong, men. I got the numbers right.... on my own. It was old man here," Lewys said, grinning and pointing at Maester Conly, "who had it wrong all the time. Seems like I should take over his spot, eh?" he said, laughing, and jokingly punched the older man in the ribs. The guards, bewildered out of their minds now, retreated from the tent without a word. Lewys had been their general for many months, but they had rarely seen him so much as crack a smile, even when the news of the burned Ironborn ships had come back to Deepwood Motte.
The next week Maester Conly allowed Lewys to manage a whole half of the army's supplies. Lewys's schedule was hectic, from training and leading his men, participating in war councils, and figuring up numbers and sums. Lewys was dead tired, but happy. He couldn't wait to return to his family's stronghold and increase their wealth. My son will not grow up a beggar lord like I did, Lewys thought, satisfied for once.
Results:
Lewys improves his finance skill to noteworthy.
Lewys improves his trade/merchantry skill to noteworthy.
Maester Conly, the man in charge of logistics and supplies in the Western army, had agreed to let Lewys take over his job for his own men and a couple thousand others. Overall, Lewys calculated that he was currently in charge of a fourth of the twenty some thousands of soldiers currently closing in on Riverrun. Maester Conly, for the past fortnight, had been working with Lewys on his finance and trade skills, and his general mathematics. He had already been better than average when it came to monetary issues, but Lewys felt all the safer for learning from Maester Conly.
As Lewys strolled through the dark and silent camp, with no particular interest in mind, he thought back to his defeat on the cold northern waters. We had them two to one... that was no ordinary defeat. The gods knew I was fighting for the wrong side. Horas with his coup, Marten, Farman, Maurin... all murderers. It was well of them to fling my men and I into the ocean. If only I could have drowned instead of them... Lewys thought, genuinely sorry that his men had perished yet he had been spared. Maybe it was some cruel jape of theirs. Or maybe they have some task for me to do yet, to redeem myself. With a new energy, he turned back the way he had come, past his tent, and headed for a small, droopy tent towards the edge of camp. Without hesitation, he entered the inside of it, without worrying about disturbing anyone. He knew the person who held his residence there would be awake.
"Maester," Lewys spoke softly. "I have done well the past week on my own. But when you added the two divisions to my responsibilities... it is difficult indeed. I wonder how a master of coin manages to run the finance of an entire realm. It is truly amazing."
The old man was laying down, sprawled out on his belly, with a bundle of scattered papers spread out before him. Overall, he looked not anything like a maester at all. Rubbing his hand through his thin grey hair, Conly smiled and organized the papers in front of him before speaking.
"Lewys, you did well. To be honest, I expected you to come crawling back to me in tears days ago. It is no easy thing to be a quartmaster of an army, or a realm, as you have said. But you have real promise yet. I have no doubt you will enrich the holdings of Deep Den tenfold when you return to your home." The man had a soft, soothing voice, good for comfort. Lewys could care less for that, as long as he could grasp the knowledge of the seemingly infinite amount of figures one must compile on a daily basis when managing the supply lines. "Besides," the maester continued, "master of coin would not be so difficult as you would imagine." When Lewys looked at him dubiously, the maester waved his hand at him and continued, "No, I am not out of my mind, you spoiled Lord. The master of coin has it easier than many financial people in the realm. You see, he receives reports from all the kingdoms. These people, who go nameless, do all the work for him. The master of coin just combines all the figures from the separate kingdoms to make one final sum. It would be the same as if I handed out my responsibilites of this army, to twenty different men. Each man would do the totals for their division, and then send me the report. I would just have to organize them and make adjustments where it's needed." Lewys nodded in understanding and wordless, the two retreated from the tent and headed to Lewys's to make sense of the problem he had made when totaling.
The guards outside Lydden's tent gave each other confused and suspicious glances whenever they could hear the words being spoken from inside. "That is entirely too many horses, maester...." Lewys could be heard saying. ".... enough coin. It's just a waste." "..... must learn to reason with the numbers, Lewys," the older man's soft voice said, echoing into the clear night. The guards shook their heads. They couldn't fathom as to why the last few weeks their lord had taken up the habit of pouring over books and numbers and figures all hours of the night. When they heard Lewys let out a big, "wahoooo!" in the middle of the night, they ran into the tent, wondering what was wrong. "Nothing is wrong, men. I got the numbers right.... on my own. It was old man here," Lewys said, grinning and pointing at Maester Conly, "who had it wrong all the time. Seems like I should take over his spot, eh?" he said, laughing, and jokingly punched the older man in the ribs. The guards, bewildered out of their minds now, retreated from the tent without a word. Lewys had been their general for many months, but they had rarely seen him so much as crack a smile, even when the news of the burned Ironborn ships had come back to Deepwood Motte.
The next week Maester Conly allowed Lewys to manage a whole half of the army's supplies. Lewys's schedule was hectic, from training and leading his men, participating in war councils, and figuring up numbers and sums. Lewys was dead tired, but happy. He couldn't wait to return to his family's stronghold and increase their wealth. My son will not grow up a beggar lord like I did, Lewys thought, satisfied for once.
Results:
Lewys improves his finance skill to noteworthy.
Lewys improves his trade/merchantry skill to noteworthy.