Post by The Stranger on Apr 7, 2008 10:48:53 GMT -5
Barris had never paid much attention to freeriders before, but now that he was playing the part, he sort of envied them. They could just ride up and attach themselves to any host they wanted to, without the pressure of loyalty, and then if they wanted to just ride off sometime before the battle, nobody would pay any attention to that, either. That was exactly what Ser Barris Redwyne planned to do this very night.
It had all started a week after he had left Starfall to join the marching host. Up until then, everything had been going according to plan. He even had met another freerider, Ser Cran Melwood (although Barris very seriously doubted the man's claim of being a knight), who had been kind enough to share some of his wine and food with Barris.
The first few nights Barris had been content with this set up, listening to the rumors and idle talk of his fellow soldiers in the Dornish army. However, as always, his insatiable curiosity got the better of him. He had snuck out into some shrubs, changed into the guard clothing he had taken from Starfall, and returned back to the camp. The night had become dark and cool, the breeze cold on one's neck. Stalking through the tents and fires, Barris made directly for the command tent, where he knew the commanders of the small army would be discussing strategic manuevers.
The large, dark colored tent sat towards the outskirts of the camp, where there wouldn't be many ears around to listen. Twenty guards stood watch around the tent, looking bored and tired.
As Barris approached, a large, hefty, bearded man stepped forwards from the flap of the tent. "What is it?" he asked, not unkind, noticing Barris wearing the same garb as most the people in the camp.
Barris smiled. "I'm new into the Dayne's service, it looks like you guys are my new brothers," he said, nodding to a few of the closer men. He continued, stretching and yawning as he did, speaking in a relaxed tone. "Anyways, the big Dayne thought it would be good for me to take some guard duty to start off. He told me to report to the command tent."
The bearded man nodded. "Welcome. I'm Ser Trellen Marshe, second-in-command of the guards. You got a name, then?" he asked gruffly.
"I do, ser. Gerold Sand, it is."
Ser Trellen nodded disinterestedly, and waved him forward to where he had been standing, close to the opening of the tent. "You can have my spot, then. I could use a break. Just do your duty and you'll be find. It doesn't take a grand maester to figure out our line of work." Barris smiled in return and took up his position.
The others had inquired into his past soon enough, but Barris had easily put that to a short end when he answered loudly, provoking a man from inside the tent to yell at the guards to "shut the hell up out there". After that they had quited down, which was what Barris had wanted from the start. As non-chalantly as he could, Barris leaned closer to the flap, resting on his spear, straining to make up the words from within. However, Barris didn't have much luck. He heard more talks or "ambushing" and "baiting", which he could assume were referring to the information he had received after infiltrating Starfall.
Even Barris had grown sleepy by the end of the meeting, when several lords exited the opening beside him, not even giving the guards a second glance. The guards moved to escort the separate lords to their respective tents, but a younger man, with jet black hair and dark, beady eyes over a hawk's nose, turned to Barris. "Gerold, you will stay here with me and guard the tent for a few minutes, in case any of the lords need to return or anyone comes here to call upon them." Barris nodded, and they began conversing quietly in the dark night.
The man's name was Ser Darrien Croyell, and just two and twenty of age. "I'm not bad with sword, and will become the captain of the guards once the old men Sterling and Marshe retire," Arthur had said. "Sterling?" Barris inquired. "Yes, Ser Arthur Sterling, Captain of the Guards at Starfall. He's here with the army, somewhere. He'll probably come here to check up on us here in a minute. The man never misses anything in his duty."
Darrien hadn't lied. When they had decided it was time to call it a night, they strolled off through the camp, speaking in hushed tones. They were still on the edges of the camp when a man with a booming voice challenged them. Darrien looked at Barris and rolled his eyes before answering. "Its just me, Sterling, and Gerold Sand. We're returning from duty at the command tent." Ser Arthur stepped out of the shadows, his face stern and suspicious. "Very well, Croyell." Turning to Barris, he eyed him carefully. "And who the hell are you? Some bastard? Why the hell are you serving in my guard unit?" Darrien laughed and answered first. "Arthur, are you truly growing that old? Surely you were told of his appointment to the guards. The Lord Dayne himself gave him his first job."
Arthur glared at both of them in turn for a lengthy amount of time. "Is this some kind of jape, Croyell? I've had about enough of your shit. I've seen your kind before, boy, and they don't last long." Arthur was right up in Darrien's face now, slamming his thick, toughened index finger into the younger man's chest. His voice was hard and angry, his mouth shooting spit everywhere. "Now I'm going to check out this Gerold Sand, or whatever the hell the bastard calls himself," Arthur continued, his face now almost touching Darrien's. "And if doesn't turn out right, you are losing your head, boy, I'm telling you, I've had enough of your damned ---," Ser Arthur's rant was cut off with a choking gasp, as he fell, face forwards, on top of Ser Darrien Croyell. Barris had been smart enough to know that this Ser Arthur gentleman was going to do everything in his power to prove Gerold Sand was a fake. The man did his duty correctly, but now he's dead. Barris had drawn his sword and the other two had not so much as noticed, arguing as they were. He had drew his blade back and hacked into the back of Ser Arthur's neck, sending the man to a quick death, and also sending the man to the ground, taking Darrien with him while he was at it. Darrien had seen the blade at the last second, and his eyes had grown wide as he had ducked down. At present, he was struggling to get out from under the dead man, saying something in a muffled voice.
Barris heaved the man's body to the side. Ser Darrien, wild eyed and pale, looked up at Barris. "What the hell, Sand!" He exclaimed, shaking his head. He was about to add more when a sword entered his stomach, and then his chest and neck. Leaving the two dead men and remaining in the shadows, he stealthily returned to his tent on the other side of the edge of camp, where Ser Cran Melwood held his tent. Careful not to wake the snoring man, Barris grabbed his own belongings and most of the man's food, securing them into the saddlebags on his horse. As quitely as he could, he mounted and sent it into a full gallop towards the very perimeter of the camp. He headed in between two torch lights, where the sentires would be near. After he had passed the line, he heard a man say, "Who the hell was that?", but Barris wasn't worried. He had remained in the shadows, quiet even though his horse was galloping. He was free now, in the dark, cold, Dornish night, and headed towards the shoreline. Perhaps one of my father's ships will see me, Barris thought, but I wouldn't count on it. He rode west.
Results:
Barris improves to expert stealth.
Barris improves to apprentice swordsmanship.
Barris contains battle plans and strategic plans of the Dornish in the upcoming war.
It had all started a week after he had left Starfall to join the marching host. Up until then, everything had been going according to plan. He even had met another freerider, Ser Cran Melwood (although Barris very seriously doubted the man's claim of being a knight), who had been kind enough to share some of his wine and food with Barris.
The first few nights Barris had been content with this set up, listening to the rumors and idle talk of his fellow soldiers in the Dornish army. However, as always, his insatiable curiosity got the better of him. He had snuck out into some shrubs, changed into the guard clothing he had taken from Starfall, and returned back to the camp. The night had become dark and cool, the breeze cold on one's neck. Stalking through the tents and fires, Barris made directly for the command tent, where he knew the commanders of the small army would be discussing strategic manuevers.
The large, dark colored tent sat towards the outskirts of the camp, where there wouldn't be many ears around to listen. Twenty guards stood watch around the tent, looking bored and tired.
As Barris approached, a large, hefty, bearded man stepped forwards from the flap of the tent. "What is it?" he asked, not unkind, noticing Barris wearing the same garb as most the people in the camp.
Barris smiled. "I'm new into the Dayne's service, it looks like you guys are my new brothers," he said, nodding to a few of the closer men. He continued, stretching and yawning as he did, speaking in a relaxed tone. "Anyways, the big Dayne thought it would be good for me to take some guard duty to start off. He told me to report to the command tent."
The bearded man nodded. "Welcome. I'm Ser Trellen Marshe, second-in-command of the guards. You got a name, then?" he asked gruffly.
"I do, ser. Gerold Sand, it is."
Ser Trellen nodded disinterestedly, and waved him forward to where he had been standing, close to the opening of the tent. "You can have my spot, then. I could use a break. Just do your duty and you'll be find. It doesn't take a grand maester to figure out our line of work." Barris smiled in return and took up his position.
The others had inquired into his past soon enough, but Barris had easily put that to a short end when he answered loudly, provoking a man from inside the tent to yell at the guards to "shut the hell up out there". After that they had quited down, which was what Barris had wanted from the start. As non-chalantly as he could, Barris leaned closer to the flap, resting on his spear, straining to make up the words from within. However, Barris didn't have much luck. He heard more talks or "ambushing" and "baiting", which he could assume were referring to the information he had received after infiltrating Starfall.
Even Barris had grown sleepy by the end of the meeting, when several lords exited the opening beside him, not even giving the guards a second glance. The guards moved to escort the separate lords to their respective tents, but a younger man, with jet black hair and dark, beady eyes over a hawk's nose, turned to Barris. "Gerold, you will stay here with me and guard the tent for a few minutes, in case any of the lords need to return or anyone comes here to call upon them." Barris nodded, and they began conversing quietly in the dark night.
The man's name was Ser Darrien Croyell, and just two and twenty of age. "I'm not bad with sword, and will become the captain of the guards once the old men Sterling and Marshe retire," Arthur had said. "Sterling?" Barris inquired. "Yes, Ser Arthur Sterling, Captain of the Guards at Starfall. He's here with the army, somewhere. He'll probably come here to check up on us here in a minute. The man never misses anything in his duty."
Darrien hadn't lied. When they had decided it was time to call it a night, they strolled off through the camp, speaking in hushed tones. They were still on the edges of the camp when a man with a booming voice challenged them. Darrien looked at Barris and rolled his eyes before answering. "Its just me, Sterling, and Gerold Sand. We're returning from duty at the command tent." Ser Arthur stepped out of the shadows, his face stern and suspicious. "Very well, Croyell." Turning to Barris, he eyed him carefully. "And who the hell are you? Some bastard? Why the hell are you serving in my guard unit?" Darrien laughed and answered first. "Arthur, are you truly growing that old? Surely you were told of his appointment to the guards. The Lord Dayne himself gave him his first job."
Arthur glared at both of them in turn for a lengthy amount of time. "Is this some kind of jape, Croyell? I've had about enough of your shit. I've seen your kind before, boy, and they don't last long." Arthur was right up in Darrien's face now, slamming his thick, toughened index finger into the younger man's chest. His voice was hard and angry, his mouth shooting spit everywhere. "Now I'm going to check out this Gerold Sand, or whatever the hell the bastard calls himself," Arthur continued, his face now almost touching Darrien's. "And if doesn't turn out right, you are losing your head, boy, I'm telling you, I've had enough of your damned ---," Ser Arthur's rant was cut off with a choking gasp, as he fell, face forwards, on top of Ser Darrien Croyell. Barris had been smart enough to know that this Ser Arthur gentleman was going to do everything in his power to prove Gerold Sand was a fake. The man did his duty correctly, but now he's dead. Barris had drawn his sword and the other two had not so much as noticed, arguing as they were. He had drew his blade back and hacked into the back of Ser Arthur's neck, sending the man to a quick death, and also sending the man to the ground, taking Darrien with him while he was at it. Darrien had seen the blade at the last second, and his eyes had grown wide as he had ducked down. At present, he was struggling to get out from under the dead man, saying something in a muffled voice.
Barris heaved the man's body to the side. Ser Darrien, wild eyed and pale, looked up at Barris. "What the hell, Sand!" He exclaimed, shaking his head. He was about to add more when a sword entered his stomach, and then his chest and neck. Leaving the two dead men and remaining in the shadows, he stealthily returned to his tent on the other side of the edge of camp, where Ser Cran Melwood held his tent. Careful not to wake the snoring man, Barris grabbed his own belongings and most of the man's food, securing them into the saddlebags on his horse. As quitely as he could, he mounted and sent it into a full gallop towards the very perimeter of the camp. He headed in between two torch lights, where the sentires would be near. After he had passed the line, he heard a man say, "Who the hell was that?", but Barris wasn't worried. He had remained in the shadows, quiet even though his horse was galloping. He was free now, in the dark, cold, Dornish night, and headed towards the shoreline. Perhaps one of my father's ships will see me, Barris thought, but I wouldn't count on it. He rode west.
Results:
Barris improves to expert stealth.
Barris improves to apprentice swordsmanship.
Barris contains battle plans and strategic plans of the Dornish in the upcoming war.
Hope you all are well and happy.