Post by The Smith on Apr 15, 2008 7:34:41 GMT -5
Benfry and Brynden rode through the Kingswood. The trees rustled and grew thick in this great forest, and all was peaceful and calm.
“So, what shall we do now?” Brynden asked eagerly. His eyes were keen as he gazed around the forest, his beautiful black mare picking her way steadily through the roots and undergrowth.
“It’s been a while since we have some fresh venison on the tables at the Red Keep kitchens,” Benfry replied, keeping an eye out for fresh deer tracks.
“I’ve never hunted deer before,” Brynden grinned, eyes sparkling.
“And we won’t today unless you learn to keep quiet and not scare them off,” Benfry chided gently.
Brynden took the hint and settled down as Benfry spent the next 20 minutes scouring the undergrowth for spoor. He dismounted and studied the ground and began a quick search of the area. Brynden got off his horse and followed Benfry around curiously, learning. Benfry showed him the signs he was looking for – bent leaves, broken twigs, spoor left behind, as well as the obvious fresh hoof marks.
Luck was on their side as he and Brynden were soon able to spot the tracks of a small herd of deer heading east. The two lead their horses at a walk, took their bows and followed the trail. Benfry gauged the wind direction and took a southeasterly course to remain upwind of the prey. They would make a faster pace on horseback, and trotted on.
After about 20 minutes they came upon a small stream and saw several deer standing around, sipping from the gently lapping brook. There was a large antlered male stag, obviously the head of the herd, with several females and a few foals. Benfry spotted a few young males, with the studs of antlers beginning to grow from their heads. “Let’s get that one!” Brynden hissed pointing at the large male. Those antlers would make a grand prize!”
Benfry frowned slightly and shook his head “I’ll not deprive a herd of its leader, Brynden. We’ll take the two young males,” he gestured to the two males and set his bow, motioning to Brynden to do the same. “I’ll take the one on the left.” The horses moved restlessly, and Black Snow would have gotten excitable, but Brynden held her still, asserting his control over her. The mare obeyed.
At Benfry's whisper, Brynden nodded, focus and concentration clear on his face as he strung his bow and took aim, following the young bucks with his arrow. “Fire on the exhale of your breath,” Benfry said to his young squire. Brynden steadied himself, one eye half closing as he squinted down the arrow at his target.
Benfry inhaled, held and then fired as he breathed out. The bows sang together and Benfry heard the meaty thunk as they both struck flesh. The deer herd scattered, startled by the noise and bleating of the two wounded bucks. The two hunters touched their heels to their horses, and the black mare and bay charger took off in pursuit. Brynden kept control of his mare in the chase, as she dodged through the trees, agile and sure-footed. The branches whipped and scraped as they passed, but Brynden hardly noticed, so intent was he on keeping the deer in sight.
They bounded into the undergrowth and Benfry and Brynden chased after them, notching another arrow to their bow in case it was needed. They need not have worried, as their arrows had struck true. They soon caught up to the first deer, which had collapsed and was breathing in some distress, flailing as it attempted to get up on legs which no longer supported it. They dismounted, and Benfry knelt, grabbed its legs and quickly slit its throat to put an end to its suffering.
Brynden went off into the words on foot and found the other deer, which was also on its side, the arrow protruding from just beneath its ribcage, into the lungs. A bloody froth was forming around its mouth as it coughed up blood with every breath. Brynden stood, frozen by the size of the beast and by the thought that he had done this. His sense of joy and achievement went away as he watched the death agonises of this once vibrant creature. For some reason, the dying buck made him think of his black mare, so full of life and spirit. So proud.
“Put an end to it lad,” Benfry said quietly, coming up behind him. Brynden turned and looked at him, eyes unreadable with emotion. “It’s in pain and you must end it,” Benfry looked with sympathy at his squire but said nothing more and merely held out his bloody dirk, handle first.
Brynden took the hilt on reflex and turned to face his trophy. The deer’s eyes rolled madly as he saw him approach and a choked off bleat came from it’s mouth. Brynden paused for a moment and then leaned in suddenly, drawing his blade across its throat in one swift motion. The deer quivered and relaxed as it died.
“Come lad. Those in the Red Keep will eat well tonight, thanks to our efforts.” Benfry gently lifted Brynden’s deer onto his shoulder, ignoring the blood which stained his white cloak.
"Yes, ser," Brynden said solemnly.
“Fetch the horses Brynden, there’s a good lad,” Benfry said softly as he nudged Brynden forward. The skinny boy broke into a run as he made for the horses, glad to take his mind, however briefly off his kill. He returned a few minutes later, to find Benfry had gutted and dressed the two deer, his hands and tunic red with their lifeblood. They lifted the two deer onto the back of a packhorse they had brought. The horses pranced and reared a little at the smell of fresh blood, before being quietened.
“I never told you about the first time Calwyn took me hunting, have I Brynden? I was a few years younger than you are now and it was a coney of rabbits we caught that day…” Benfry told tales of his youth all the way back to King’s Landing, keeping an eye on his young squire as he did so. Brynden drank it all in, hanging onto his lord's words. And Benfry knew, somehow, that he was truly becoming an important figure in the young boy's life.
Results:
Benfry improves towards Master Archery
Benfry improves towards Grandmaster Tracking
Brynden improves towards Novice Archery
Brynden improves towards Noteworthy Horseriding
“So, what shall we do now?” Brynden asked eagerly. His eyes were keen as he gazed around the forest, his beautiful black mare picking her way steadily through the roots and undergrowth.
“It’s been a while since we have some fresh venison on the tables at the Red Keep kitchens,” Benfry replied, keeping an eye out for fresh deer tracks.
“I’ve never hunted deer before,” Brynden grinned, eyes sparkling.
“And we won’t today unless you learn to keep quiet and not scare them off,” Benfry chided gently.
Brynden took the hint and settled down as Benfry spent the next 20 minutes scouring the undergrowth for spoor. He dismounted and studied the ground and began a quick search of the area. Brynden got off his horse and followed Benfry around curiously, learning. Benfry showed him the signs he was looking for – bent leaves, broken twigs, spoor left behind, as well as the obvious fresh hoof marks.
Luck was on their side as he and Brynden were soon able to spot the tracks of a small herd of deer heading east. The two lead their horses at a walk, took their bows and followed the trail. Benfry gauged the wind direction and took a southeasterly course to remain upwind of the prey. They would make a faster pace on horseback, and trotted on.
After about 20 minutes they came upon a small stream and saw several deer standing around, sipping from the gently lapping brook. There was a large antlered male stag, obviously the head of the herd, with several females and a few foals. Benfry spotted a few young males, with the studs of antlers beginning to grow from their heads. “Let’s get that one!” Brynden hissed pointing at the large male. Those antlers would make a grand prize!”
Benfry frowned slightly and shook his head “I’ll not deprive a herd of its leader, Brynden. We’ll take the two young males,” he gestured to the two males and set his bow, motioning to Brynden to do the same. “I’ll take the one on the left.” The horses moved restlessly, and Black Snow would have gotten excitable, but Brynden held her still, asserting his control over her. The mare obeyed.
At Benfry's whisper, Brynden nodded, focus and concentration clear on his face as he strung his bow and took aim, following the young bucks with his arrow. “Fire on the exhale of your breath,” Benfry said to his young squire. Brynden steadied himself, one eye half closing as he squinted down the arrow at his target.
Benfry inhaled, held and then fired as he breathed out. The bows sang together and Benfry heard the meaty thunk as they both struck flesh. The deer herd scattered, startled by the noise and bleating of the two wounded bucks. The two hunters touched their heels to their horses, and the black mare and bay charger took off in pursuit. Brynden kept control of his mare in the chase, as she dodged through the trees, agile and sure-footed. The branches whipped and scraped as they passed, but Brynden hardly noticed, so intent was he on keeping the deer in sight.
They bounded into the undergrowth and Benfry and Brynden chased after them, notching another arrow to their bow in case it was needed. They need not have worried, as their arrows had struck true. They soon caught up to the first deer, which had collapsed and was breathing in some distress, flailing as it attempted to get up on legs which no longer supported it. They dismounted, and Benfry knelt, grabbed its legs and quickly slit its throat to put an end to its suffering.
Brynden went off into the words on foot and found the other deer, which was also on its side, the arrow protruding from just beneath its ribcage, into the lungs. A bloody froth was forming around its mouth as it coughed up blood with every breath. Brynden stood, frozen by the size of the beast and by the thought that he had done this. His sense of joy and achievement went away as he watched the death agonises of this once vibrant creature. For some reason, the dying buck made him think of his black mare, so full of life and spirit. So proud.
“Put an end to it lad,” Benfry said quietly, coming up behind him. Brynden turned and looked at him, eyes unreadable with emotion. “It’s in pain and you must end it,” Benfry looked with sympathy at his squire but said nothing more and merely held out his bloody dirk, handle first.
Brynden took the hilt on reflex and turned to face his trophy. The deer’s eyes rolled madly as he saw him approach and a choked off bleat came from it’s mouth. Brynden paused for a moment and then leaned in suddenly, drawing his blade across its throat in one swift motion. The deer quivered and relaxed as it died.
“Come lad. Those in the Red Keep will eat well tonight, thanks to our efforts.” Benfry gently lifted Brynden’s deer onto his shoulder, ignoring the blood which stained his white cloak.
"Yes, ser," Brynden said solemnly.
“Fetch the horses Brynden, there’s a good lad,” Benfry said softly as he nudged Brynden forward. The skinny boy broke into a run as he made for the horses, glad to take his mind, however briefly off his kill. He returned a few minutes later, to find Benfry had gutted and dressed the two deer, his hands and tunic red with their lifeblood. They lifted the two deer onto the back of a packhorse they had brought. The horses pranced and reared a little at the smell of fresh blood, before being quietened.
“I never told you about the first time Calwyn took me hunting, have I Brynden? I was a few years younger than you are now and it was a coney of rabbits we caught that day…” Benfry told tales of his youth all the way back to King’s Landing, keeping an eye on his young squire as he did so. Brynden drank it all in, hanging onto his lord's words. And Benfry knew, somehow, that he was truly becoming an important figure in the young boy's life.
Results:
Benfry improves towards Master Archery
Benfry improves towards Grandmaster Tracking
Brynden improves towards Novice Archery
Brynden improves towards Noteworthy Horseriding