Post by The Stranger on Apr 12, 2008 17:47:03 GMT -5
After he read the letter, he crumpled it up and threw it in the stream. It had been on his mind for a while now but this confirmed
it. It was his time to leave Dorne; to venture to Braavos and start himself a new life. All indicated for a retaking of Dorne, a
hiring of sell-sails to combat the enemies fleet, but Beric was uncertain wether such a fleet could be acquired. Janos, the young
soldier that Beric had appointed as his second, not for his experience, little as it was, but for his quick whit and decision
making started walking towards him. "Lord Beric..." "Ser, if you wish. The Sword of the Morning is not a lordship title." Beric
had decided not to let too many people in on the fact that he had the sword. He had told Aryanna of course, and Elijah knew too.
He had pontered over telling the Stonehawk, honorable as the man was, but he didn't deem it necessary. And Janos; he had told
Janos. He trusted the man, nay boy, and he decided to take him to Braavos. As emotionally dead as he was, he did not deem it fit
for this man, or indeed any man, to die in this futile war. "If only someone would find a way to stop this bloody war." he said
to himself, but Janos seemed to hear. "Well, Ser... we could..." "I appologise for interrupting you repeatedly, but I have a lot
on my mind. Bring me the little of the Dornish Red that is left and we will talk."
Fifteen minutes later he and Janos were sitting amongst the reeds, a place Beric enjoyed for it's seclusion, and drank the sweet
vintage. "Janos, I will ask you something. What do you think of the war?" An odd look appeared on the young man's face but he was
quick to answer. "I believe that Dorne should have it's independance." Beric came close to what he would expect to be a smile but
which in fact looked more than a sight twitch of the lips. "I asked you what you thought of it, not what you it too achieve." The
boy thought for a moment, staring into the dark. "I... I think it is not right that so many people are dying." Beric nodded and
took another sip of his wine. "Janos, after that first battle at Lemonwood... I felt great. The man I slew turned out to be one
Edric Cuy, an enemy commander of some ability. The second man I faced that day, he too was a commander. I remembered his sigil,
and when I asked Lord Fowler, he told me that this man went by the name of Lewys Lydden... Lord Lewys Lydden. The man gave me a
brave fight and from that moment on I was sure I would meet him again, on the battle field, and then all would be decided." He
stayed silent for a moment, waiting for Janos. "What happened to him?" the young man asked. "He died of the poison at Sunspear.
That made me think about this war. It made me think about any war that has ever been. It is a terrible thing, boy, and people
always find a way to justify it, but true jusitification there rarely is." Beric took another sip and looked the boy in the eyes.
"I am leaving for Braavos, and I want you to come with me." That took Janos by surprise. "I know the men under my command are
loyal and honorable, so they will likely disagree with what I plan to do. However, I want you to go to the few ment hat you trust
most, the one's that you know are truly good men, and ask them to join us." Gulping down the last of the wine, Beric stood.
"We ride at dawn."
To Dawn it was that he went, the white sword, beautifull and deadly. With it in his hands he was not only a force to be reconned
with; he was approaching mighty. He found a lone sentinel, cracked and dead from the sun and started practice. He would work his
way into a sweat, for that was the time he felt truly at home. With a sword in his hand and an enemy to defeat, if real or
imaginary, there was not better place. No place further from memories of Ary. He couldn't help but breaking down in a flood of
tears. It hadn't hit him yet but now, now it came. For a few moments he let the grief have the better of him but then he forced
himself up, not wanting to let his men see their commander in such a state. He went back to hacking at the poor dead tree when
Janos walked up to him. "Ser, thirteen other men want to ride with you. I of course too." Beric nodded. "Good. Have them ready
themselves. Anyone who falls asleep and doesn't wake up when we ride remains here."
Dawn found Beric riding his trusted horse through the desert. He knew that riding at first light was an easy way to attract
attention, but somehow he felt the sun was his friend, his ally... his protector. It was the Sword of the Morning, standing in
the sky, and surely it would help him. "Ser Beric. Riders. Behind us." Beric cursed. He stopped his mound and turned to see.
In the distance he saw a small group of men, Dornishmen, riding towards them. "About twenty." he said, more to himself than
anyone else and he waited for them to come closer. At a reasonable range the men stopped and one of them rode ahead. "I am Rycher,
the newly made commander of the Dornish force near Hellholt, and I am here to stop you from committing treason." Beric rode to
face the man. "As you know, I am Ser Beric Dayne, and I do believe that you should let us ride. This is not out war anymore, and
so you best turn back." The man spat and scowled at Beric. "I will NOT let traitors go! Men, take them." With a flash, Dawn was out,
and the man Rycher had only a moment of comprehension, shock visible on his face, before the blade nearly completely took off the
upper half of his body. There were shouts and all of a sudden Dornish were fighting Dornish. Beric let his sword slay one man
and then another, keeping an eye out for who was on his side and who wasn't. Three kills later and the men who came to stop them
were all dead. Beric felt alive; the sword had awoken something in him... he could now feel that he was one with it. "How many have
we lost?" Beric asked. A moment later Janos shouted "Three." Beric nodded."Leave them for the vultures." He said, finally sheathing
his sword.
For them the war was over.
Ser Beric Dayne advances towards Grandmaster with the Greatsword.
it. It was his time to leave Dorne; to venture to Braavos and start himself a new life. All indicated for a retaking of Dorne, a
hiring of sell-sails to combat the enemies fleet, but Beric was uncertain wether such a fleet could be acquired. Janos, the young
soldier that Beric had appointed as his second, not for his experience, little as it was, but for his quick whit and decision
making started walking towards him. "Lord Beric..." "Ser, if you wish. The Sword of the Morning is not a lordship title." Beric
had decided not to let too many people in on the fact that he had the sword. He had told Aryanna of course, and Elijah knew too.
He had pontered over telling the Stonehawk, honorable as the man was, but he didn't deem it necessary. And Janos; he had told
Janos. He trusted the man, nay boy, and he decided to take him to Braavos. As emotionally dead as he was, he did not deem it fit
for this man, or indeed any man, to die in this futile war. "If only someone would find a way to stop this bloody war." he said
to himself, but Janos seemed to hear. "Well, Ser... we could..." "I appologise for interrupting you repeatedly, but I have a lot
on my mind. Bring me the little of the Dornish Red that is left and we will talk."
Fifteen minutes later he and Janos were sitting amongst the reeds, a place Beric enjoyed for it's seclusion, and drank the sweet
vintage. "Janos, I will ask you something. What do you think of the war?" An odd look appeared on the young man's face but he was
quick to answer. "I believe that Dorne should have it's independance." Beric came close to what he would expect to be a smile but
which in fact looked more than a sight twitch of the lips. "I asked you what you thought of it, not what you it too achieve." The
boy thought for a moment, staring into the dark. "I... I think it is not right that so many people are dying." Beric nodded and
took another sip of his wine. "Janos, after that first battle at Lemonwood... I felt great. The man I slew turned out to be one
Edric Cuy, an enemy commander of some ability. The second man I faced that day, he too was a commander. I remembered his sigil,
and when I asked Lord Fowler, he told me that this man went by the name of Lewys Lydden... Lord Lewys Lydden. The man gave me a
brave fight and from that moment on I was sure I would meet him again, on the battle field, and then all would be decided." He
stayed silent for a moment, waiting for Janos. "What happened to him?" the young man asked. "He died of the poison at Sunspear.
That made me think about this war. It made me think about any war that has ever been. It is a terrible thing, boy, and people
always find a way to justify it, but true jusitification there rarely is." Beric took another sip and looked the boy in the eyes.
"I am leaving for Braavos, and I want you to come with me." That took Janos by surprise. "I know the men under my command are
loyal and honorable, so they will likely disagree with what I plan to do. However, I want you to go to the few ment hat you trust
most, the one's that you know are truly good men, and ask them to join us." Gulping down the last of the wine, Beric stood.
"We ride at dawn."
To Dawn it was that he went, the white sword, beautifull and deadly. With it in his hands he was not only a force to be reconned
with; he was approaching mighty. He found a lone sentinel, cracked and dead from the sun and started practice. He would work his
way into a sweat, for that was the time he felt truly at home. With a sword in his hand and an enemy to defeat, if real or
imaginary, there was not better place. No place further from memories of Ary. He couldn't help but breaking down in a flood of
tears. It hadn't hit him yet but now, now it came. For a few moments he let the grief have the better of him but then he forced
himself up, not wanting to let his men see their commander in such a state. He went back to hacking at the poor dead tree when
Janos walked up to him. "Ser, thirteen other men want to ride with you. I of course too." Beric nodded. "Good. Have them ready
themselves. Anyone who falls asleep and doesn't wake up when we ride remains here."
Dawn found Beric riding his trusted horse through the desert. He knew that riding at first light was an easy way to attract
attention, but somehow he felt the sun was his friend, his ally... his protector. It was the Sword of the Morning, standing in
the sky, and surely it would help him. "Ser Beric. Riders. Behind us." Beric cursed. He stopped his mound and turned to see.
In the distance he saw a small group of men, Dornishmen, riding towards them. "About twenty." he said, more to himself than
anyone else and he waited for them to come closer. At a reasonable range the men stopped and one of them rode ahead. "I am Rycher,
the newly made commander of the Dornish force near Hellholt, and I am here to stop you from committing treason." Beric rode to
face the man. "As you know, I am Ser Beric Dayne, and I do believe that you should let us ride. This is not out war anymore, and
so you best turn back." The man spat and scowled at Beric. "I will NOT let traitors go! Men, take them." With a flash, Dawn was out,
and the man Rycher had only a moment of comprehension, shock visible on his face, before the blade nearly completely took off the
upper half of his body. There were shouts and all of a sudden Dornish were fighting Dornish. Beric let his sword slay one man
and then another, keeping an eye out for who was on his side and who wasn't. Three kills later and the men who came to stop them
were all dead. Beric felt alive; the sword had awoken something in him... he could now feel that he was one with it. "How many have
we lost?" Beric asked. A moment later Janos shouted "Three." Beric nodded."Leave them for the vultures." He said, finally sheathing
his sword.
For them the war was over.
Ser Beric Dayne advances towards Grandmaster with the Greatsword.