Post by The Stranger on Apr 8, 2008 9:40:20 GMT -5
Robb rolled out of bed, throwing on his clothes and mail. He grabbed his sword and slipped on his riding boots. The sun had not risen yet; it was still dark and silent outside the castle. As he left the room, Robb gazed back onto the bed, where the young woman he had met the night before was laying, nude, her chest slightly pumping up and down as she breathed in deep sleep. I'm starting to love Blackhaven, Robb thought with a smile. He ran back in, kissed her on the forehead, then continued on his duty.
Once outside the walls of Blackhaven, the mounted force of two thousand men started out slowly, but in good spirits. They knew they would not have to buckle down and grow serious until they ventured further to the south. The main army would be moving out soon, but Robb and Ser Oliver Bulwer had been placed in joint command of the vanguard and scouting force.
Technically, Robb had just as much command pull as Ser Oliver, but Robb knew enough to defer to the older knight. Ser Oliver was more experienced in real battles, especially when it came to scouting and clearing the path for the main strike. They rode all day, at a leisurely pace, but as the day grew dark, the host fell more and more silent, searching for any signs of resistance.
However, they saw none on the first day, but as they made camp on the edge of some woods and on top of some large hills, Robb ordered his division of men to post double sentries, and he suspected that Ser Oliver had sent out the same order to the entire party.
They continued marching, always searching, riding ahead, sending signals, ready for anything suspicious. Towards the end of one of the day's marching, Robb slapped one of his more tired on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Ser Merlyn, I'll ride ahead and scout in your place. You've had a long and tough day." The man gratefully nodded, immediately tieing his horse up and then laying down on the soft, cold ground. Truth be told, Robb didn't much mind going on a scouting mission ahead. Thus far on the march, he had been staying behind, listening to boring report after report. Might be I'll get lucky and get to kill me a Dornishman or two, Robb mused, as joined the three other men who would accompany him during the scouting.
They had crossed the Boneway earlier in the day, and Robb suspected they were drawing near Wyl itself. The main army was coming up on the vanguard, he knew, and the attack may even take place this very night. The four men led their swift horses through dense forest, letting them lead the way throught rock and root.
One of the men in their party, called Grenn, announced gruffly that he needed to take a piss. Hopping off his horse, the man waddled into some nearby shrubs, where he promptly began pissing. Robb looked around, utterly bored, considering turning around and heading back for some food at camp, when Green's sigh of a good piss turned into a sickening grunt. Robb spun, just in time to see Green fall, an arrow sticking out both sides of his head. Up ahead, two men on horses were riding hard the other way, bows slung over their backs. "After them!" Robb called, angry. His two companions followed, riding hard, not worrying about the uneven footing of the forest.
The chase lasted just a minute. The enemies, in their panic of seeing the other three men chase after them at full speed, had both tried to lead their horses through a small path between large trees at the same time. The horses bumped together and stopped completely, unsure of what they were doing, while their riders cursed at them furiously. Robb was quickly upon them, with his two companions a few feet behind. One of the enemies tried to dismount and run on foot, but Robb's sword sliced through him before he could get of the saddle. The other man jumped off his horse, screaming "yield, yield." Robb spun around and just before one of his men bashed the fallen man's skull in, Robb ordered him to halt. "We may need him to talk. We'll take him to Bulwer." The other men reluctantly obeyed the young Lord, roughly bounding the man hand and foot and then heading back to camp.
Once there, Robb dismounted and immediately layed down, ready for sleep. The other men looked at him incredulously. "Aren't you going to question him?" Robb smiled. "I'm tired. Let Ser Oliver do the deed. He will no doubt get the best advance on Wyl out of this man, as well as the number in their garrison. This man will talk, he is a craven, we saw that in the woods."
Robb fell asleep, knowing he had only a few hours of sleep before the main army would arrive, marching with all speed to bring the men at Wyl to their inevitable fate-- Death.
Results:
Robb improves scouting to novice
Robb improves horse riding to novice
The Army receives knowledge about Wyl and the advancing terrain against Wyl.
Once outside the walls of Blackhaven, the mounted force of two thousand men started out slowly, but in good spirits. They knew they would not have to buckle down and grow serious until they ventured further to the south. The main army would be moving out soon, but Robb and Ser Oliver Bulwer had been placed in joint command of the vanguard and scouting force.
Technically, Robb had just as much command pull as Ser Oliver, but Robb knew enough to defer to the older knight. Ser Oliver was more experienced in real battles, especially when it came to scouting and clearing the path for the main strike. They rode all day, at a leisurely pace, but as the day grew dark, the host fell more and more silent, searching for any signs of resistance.
However, they saw none on the first day, but as they made camp on the edge of some woods and on top of some large hills, Robb ordered his division of men to post double sentries, and he suspected that Ser Oliver had sent out the same order to the entire party.
They continued marching, always searching, riding ahead, sending signals, ready for anything suspicious. Towards the end of one of the day's marching, Robb slapped one of his more tired on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Ser Merlyn, I'll ride ahead and scout in your place. You've had a long and tough day." The man gratefully nodded, immediately tieing his horse up and then laying down on the soft, cold ground. Truth be told, Robb didn't much mind going on a scouting mission ahead. Thus far on the march, he had been staying behind, listening to boring report after report. Might be I'll get lucky and get to kill me a Dornishman or two, Robb mused, as joined the three other men who would accompany him during the scouting.
They had crossed the Boneway earlier in the day, and Robb suspected they were drawing near Wyl itself. The main army was coming up on the vanguard, he knew, and the attack may even take place this very night. The four men led their swift horses through dense forest, letting them lead the way throught rock and root.
One of the men in their party, called Grenn, announced gruffly that he needed to take a piss. Hopping off his horse, the man waddled into some nearby shrubs, where he promptly began pissing. Robb looked around, utterly bored, considering turning around and heading back for some food at camp, when Green's sigh of a good piss turned into a sickening grunt. Robb spun, just in time to see Green fall, an arrow sticking out both sides of his head. Up ahead, two men on horses were riding hard the other way, bows slung over their backs. "After them!" Robb called, angry. His two companions followed, riding hard, not worrying about the uneven footing of the forest.
The chase lasted just a minute. The enemies, in their panic of seeing the other three men chase after them at full speed, had both tried to lead their horses through a small path between large trees at the same time. The horses bumped together and stopped completely, unsure of what they were doing, while their riders cursed at them furiously. Robb was quickly upon them, with his two companions a few feet behind. One of the enemies tried to dismount and run on foot, but Robb's sword sliced through him before he could get of the saddle. The other man jumped off his horse, screaming "yield, yield." Robb spun around and just before one of his men bashed the fallen man's skull in, Robb ordered him to halt. "We may need him to talk. We'll take him to Bulwer." The other men reluctantly obeyed the young Lord, roughly bounding the man hand and foot and then heading back to camp.
Once there, Robb dismounted and immediately layed down, ready for sleep. The other men looked at him incredulously. "Aren't you going to question him?" Robb smiled. "I'm tired. Let Ser Oliver do the deed. He will no doubt get the best advance on Wyl out of this man, as well as the number in their garrison. This man will talk, he is a craven, we saw that in the woods."
Robb fell asleep, knowing he had only a few hours of sleep before the main army would arrive, marching with all speed to bring the men at Wyl to their inevitable fate-- Death.
Results:
Robb improves scouting to novice
Robb improves horse riding to novice
The Army receives knowledge about Wyl and the advancing terrain against Wyl.